More Than Coincidence Less than Destiny
by Firegirl210
Summary: First Officer Spock has been having nightmares; but what could they possibly have to do with a string of planets stripped of all life, strange energy signatures left in Federation space, and telepathic alien beings? The Enterprise will be in for the fight of their lives, and her first officer may discover the meaning of his. Post Into Darkness.
1. An Unpleasant Necessity

**This is my full length fic I've been trying to write for like two months now! I hope you all enjoy it. **

**Kirk, Spock, Bones, the Redshirts etc. are not mine, which is unfortunate because if they were I'd be rich. **

**This story is set right after the end of Into Darkness, so a year has passed since all that craziness and the Enterprise is on her 5 year mission as she should be. This story will take elements from TOS but it is directly in the 2009 AU so I'm leaving it in this category.**

**Pairings will be Kirk/Spock, maybe some Uhura/Scotty, Sulu/Chekov bromance, etc. **

**I love reviews and they inspire me to write faster so drop a few if you get the time!**

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_Chapter One: An Unpleasant Necessity_

Vulcans do not dream. At least, the act is not encouraged and none would ever admit to doing so. Dreaming would indicate a loss of control in the suppressed imaginative facilities of the brain. Even in sleep, such a slip would be viewed as less than exemplary.

But after the brutal destruction of their homeworld, the phenomenon became something of a wide-spread menace. They woke in droves from their slumber, visions of the tragedy of their race spinning behind veiled eyes.

A certain half-Vulcan was no exception to this. He dreamed that night, as he had many other nights; his subconscious painted his sleep in hues of of death. The red of Vulcan soil, the dusky orange of a Vulcan sky, and the green of Vulcan blood. He watched, helpless, as his planet was torn apart from the inside. His mother slipped from his grasp, Nero's face spun before his eyes, and he jerked awake with a thundering heart and lungs tight with near panic.

It took a moment for him to realise where he was, and to calm. He was in his quarters aboard the U.S.S. Enterprise, taking a much needed rest, and had drifted off to a troubled sleep, interrupted as it was by unpleasant dreams.

Spock rose from the tangled sheets, entering his private washroom and splashing cool water on his hot Vulcan skin. It helped, and he raised dark eyes to survey his reflection in the mirror.

Those dark eyes held ghosts within them, and as they gazed back now with no barriers to speak of they contained pain, sorrow, anger and confusion as well. Spock did not like what he saw and quickly snapped himself out of his momentary lapse, eyebrows slightly drawn together in self-condemnation.

He made his way back to the warm atmosphere of his quarters and knelt in front of the small porthole which displayed a view of the flashing stars as they streaked by faster than light. He placed his thumb, index and middle fingers together, meshing the others and folding himself onto the floor comfortably.

It is the Vulcan way to meditate during times of stress, and as Spock closed his eyes he felt the acute self-awareness particular to his species well up around him. He could pinpoint every tense nerve and coax it to relax, each stiff muscle to unwind-but the rearrangement of feeling came as a challenge. Not only were his unstable emotions enhanced by his red human blood, but the steadying beacon of Vulcan had years since vanished into the blackness of oblivion, sending his mind into a unpleasant panic.

He drew a deep breath of hot, dry air into the bottom of his lungs. Do not allow sentiment control over your being, he chided, pulling oxygen in and out of his body. Peace, quiet, control...

As if in malignant spite of his condition, a visitor rang the bell, requesting access to his quarters and he sighed.

"Enter," he decided, and the doors whoosed open to reveal a feminine figure. Lieutenant Nyota Uhura stepped into the oven of Spock's room, offering a hesitant smile of thanks. Relations between them had been somewhat...forced since the incident with Khan, or even before. Uhura felt upset that he had never-and likely would never-harbor sentiments for her with the vehemence which she desired, and Spock was growing weary of the emotional grappling between them.

"Are you alright?" Nyota asked, noting his meditative position on the floor of his quarters and perhaps the tenseness in the air. He gave a quick nod in reply, indicating for her to sit in one of the chairs. She declined, folding her arms and cocking one hip in a stance indicative of oncoming conflict.

"Don't do this, Spock. I can tell something is wrong, and you denying it won't make the problem go away. Let me in, let me try to help," she pleaded, and he closed his eyes to block both his emotions and the sight of the woman who had knelt in front of him imploringly. He was dismissing her, and she knew it. Although his eyes remained closed, he sensed her growing agitation in the surrounding air.

"Spock-"

"Nyota," he cut her off more abruptly than was generally considered polite, and weary dark eyes opened to meet hers. He wasn't angry-more overwhelmed by an immense sadness. "Please do not pursue this train of thought further. It is detrimental both to my mental state and your emotional wellbeing," he explained gently, a patient teacher lecturing a recalcitrant pupil, and Uhura threw her hands up in a particularly human gesture of exasperation.

"Again with the denial! It's always my wellbeing and my emotions. What about yours? You've got feelings to worry about too," She pointed out. Spock allowed himself another weary sigh.

"May I remind you that I am Vulcan, and as such my emotions are hardly consequential-"

"Bullshit!"

He broke off abruptly at the sharp expletive, and Uhura gripped his collar, pulling the commander into a slightly frustrated kiss. He did not respond, slightly confused by the apparently angry sentiment behind a normally affectionate gesture. She pushed him back, eyes snapping furiously.

"You're more than that, Spock, and this continuing denial proves that even if you don't feel anything else, you certainly feel pride! Why? Why this compulsive need to be Vulcan? You're just as much human as you are Vulcan," she paused in her reprimand, an expression of pain crossing her face. She reached for his hand, touching her fore and index fingertips to Spock's in a gentle Vulcan kiss.

"Aren't we enough for you?"

The accusation, though implied, hung suspended in the heated air between them.

Aren't I enough for you?

Spock unfolded his limbs smoothly, rising to his full height in one fluid motion. "I believe it would be to our mutual benefit for you to leave now, Lieutenant. You are becoming irrational, and my presence is required on the bridge."

Of all the cold dismissals he had delivered in his life, this one ranked near the top of the proverbial list. He had no intention of being cruel-his patience had worn thin and he no longer desired to be in her company.

Nyota stood sharply, eyes flashing. Spock resisted the urge to take an alarmed step backwards. Uhura's wrath was a beast best left sleeping.

"You being my senior officer does not give you the right to dismiss me when you get uncomfortable with the conversation. Whether you like it or not, you'll have to address these issues eventually," she said cuttingly, and then her eyes softened sadly.

"I really thought you trusted me enough to let me help you. I guess it was wishful thinking on my part." She turned to leave, and Spock took a conciliatory step towards her.

"Nyota..." His dark eyes were troubled, and she paused.

"Please do not be angry. I meant no offense. It is logical that my struggle to reconcile the alien halves of myself would be difficult to understand from an outside perspective. You do not know of what you speak. I will hold no ill will towards your ignorance."

Fire leapt again in her eyes and she struck him with no hesitation across his high right cheekbone. His eyes widened marginally in surprise, and she stepped away again, fists clenched at her sides. He could see the battle with her emotions taking place inside her eyes, one he had waged many times. She raised her chin, resigned yet determined in her stature.

"Commander Spock, I must request that you refrain from addressing me unless absolutely necessary until further notice. I hope we can maintain a professional working relationship until that time," she said evenly, gazed fixed slightly to the left of Spock's. He blinked in surprise at her abrupt change to the strictly logical. It sounded...exactly like something he would say.

"Permission to resume duty on the Bridge, sir?" she requested stiffly, and he allowed it with a curt nod. She strode from the room, leaving him much less peaceful than he had been in quite a long time.

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**I will never Uhura bash, but I felt like they needed to be broken up and what better way to start a story with a clean slate? Following chapters will be quite a bit longer and less feelings. **

**Thanks for reading!**


	2. A Most Peculiar Situation

**Greetings friends! Buckle in for a real chapter this time. **

**None of these lovely people are mine except Lieutenant Ball and Lieutenant Scroggins who are most likely long future descendants of my best friends and hetero life mates.**

**Enjoy!**

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_Chapter Two: A Most Peculiar Situation_

"Commander, the specifics you requested on the indigenous population are finished," Lieutenant Uhura spoke up suddenly, breaking the relative silence on the Bridge. They were hovering in orbit around a class-M planet that had been charted but never explored by a Federation Vessel. Preliminary scans indicated some sort of disturbance occurring on the planet, but due to a highly magnetic planetary surface further investigation from space was nearly impossible.

Several of the crewmembers in Communications and Social Sciences had been scouring scans and previous records for any indication of a sentient species, dangerous flora or fauna, and what an away team might be likely to encounter. This report had, after nearly four hours of restless waiting, useless scans and an agitated Captain, been finished and was passed stiffly from Uhura to Spock without so much as the meeting of their eyes.

Kirk noticed, but said nothing as his first officer's dark gaze scanned the computer file quickly, storing all the information away until it became relevant.

"An armed away party should be relatively safe on the planet surface, Captain, but any crewmember beaming down would have to wear a standard issue bio-hazard suit-the unsettled reading we picked up is the result of some sort of mass extinction event. The atmosphere is full of decaying life," Uhura said, and Kirk's eyes lit up.

"Sounds worth checking into. Bones!" he called into the comm, and his CMO grumbled a grudging reply from the depths of sickbay. "Suit yourself and a security team up in bio-hazard suits and meet me in the Transporter Room," he instructed, and there was a moment of disbelieving silence on the other end before Dr. McCoy growled a, "planning on getting us all killed in the most painful ways possible," and a more audible "alright Jim."

"Mr. Spock, you're with me. Sulu, you have the conn. Call Scotty if anything happens that you can't handle."

There was a joking tone to Kirk's words-they all knew there was very little the young lieutenant couldn't handle. Kirk and Spock strode down the hallway, two men on a mission, and Spock turned to his Captain.

"Captain, I should quote protocol and point out the potential that this extinction was not caused by any natural phenomenon. In light of the dangerous nature of this mission, I would suggest that you stay behind."

Jim snorted, and Spock nodded in understanding. "It was only an attempt to please protocol Captain. I never held any doubt."

They entered the transporter room, donning their bio-suits as Bones snarled at them before even a preliminary greeting.

"Jim, beaming down onto a planet that was deep fried by unknown causes may be the most stupid, godawful-"

"Actually, Doctor, the planet itself is unharmed and only mildly radioactive. We should be quite safe, barring any unforeseen circumstances," Spock rebutted, and McCoy glowered darkly.

"Unforeseen circumstances are our goddamn bread and butter."

"Pardon Doctor? You metaphor does not seem applicable in this-"

"Landing Party!" Kirk interrupted his officers' squabble, garnering the attention of the assembled crewmen. "We'll beam down in two squads-Alpha Squad, led by myself, which will contain Mr. Spock, Doctor McCoy and Lieutenant Scroggins. Beta Squad will be made up of the rest of you led by Lieutenant Ball. Our objective is sample collection of air, soil and radiation for analysis. Alpha Squad with me."

The first group assembled on the transporter pad, and with a shimmer and a flash they were gone.

.

Four humanoid figures materialized on the dusty brown surface of Alfa-177. They immediately spread out, scanning visually and technologically for any danger.

"No life signs anywhere on surface, Captain," Spock asserted, and Bones cursed vehemently as he tripped on an obstacle buried in ankle deep ash and sprawled into the dust, sending up a grey dust cloud. Jim frowned, catching some between his fingers.

"That ash is too fine to be Volcanic," he decided, and Spock nodded.

"Carbon based refuse, Sir."

"Cremated Life," Lieutenant Scroggins translated gloomily, and Bones squawked in horror and flailed about, trying to right himself and get out of the ash. The security officer assisted him as Jim trekked to the edge of the plateau onto which they had transported, gazing out across the barren valley before them. Spock stepped up beside his Captain, offering him silent strength. Jim turned to his First Officer grimly.

"Why do I get the feeling this wasn't a natural extinction?"

"It...would appear that the entirety of life on this planet has been vaporized in some fashion, Captain. If that is the case, the perpetrators would be subject to punishment most severe."

Jim's blue eyes darkened and he turned around, pointing Beta Squad in the direction he wanted them.

"Then we'd better snap to and find out who's responsible."

The combined landing party slid down the embankment, fanning out across what was once a riverbed.

"Captain...you should take a look at this," Lieutenant Ball called, and the senior officers hurried over to where he had stopped beside a large charred boulder resting in the center of the riverbed. The brittle remains of a skeleton huddled beneath it; a small canine creature with four legs, a long tail and the remnants of tiny horns.

"The boulder must have shielded it from the heat. That's why the skeleton is still partially intact," Bones theorized, and Jim sighed.

"That gives some hard proof that extra-planetary weapons were used, but no guess as to who did it. Spock, could it be Klingons?"

The party resumed its scouting, and the Captain's taller shadow replied, "Uncertain, Captain. The Klingon Empire has never demonstrated the existence of any weaponry capable of such devastation. However, that does not necessarily dictate such a weapon is not in their possession."

"But Jim," Bones spoke up to the Captain's left, "If this were a Klingon attack, why strike a planet uninhabited by any humanoid life? Why not a Federation Colony or Outpost? It just doesn't smell Klingon."

"Well if we can't figure out who, then the least we can do is find out how," Jim barked, and his shadows exchanged a worried glance.

"Jim..." Bones laid a hand on his friend's shoulder, but was quickly rebuffed as Jim shook him off. The Captain stalked through the ash, leaving tiny angry mushroom clouds in his wake.

"The Captain appears to be quite agitated," the Vulcan crew member noted, and Bones rolled his eyes.

"You really are a master of observation, Mr. Spock," he spat sarcastically, and Spock raised both eyebrows at the Doctor.

"Your praise, while unexpected, has been duly noted Doctor McCoy."

Bones stared disbelievingly after the Vulcan before following with some truly creative blasphemies muttered under his breath.

The party emerged from the river canyon, onto a wide flat flood plain. It extended for miles in every direction before coming to a mountainous halt. Kirk kept walking as if he intended to head for those distant peaks and Bones hurried after him, catching his arm.

"Jim, whoever did this, they're long gone. They left no trace-"

Suddenly the ground ahead of them exploded up and outward, throwing the Captain and the Doctor back.

"Jim!" Spock rushed to his fallen commander, and Bones landed directly on Lieutenant Ball, knocking the security guard violently to the ground.

"What is that?!"

A massive head reared out of the ashy earth, belonging to an enormous beast with scaled belly, jagged mandibles that could have crushed a shuttle between them, dozens of multi-jointed legs and shimmering prismed eyes. It shrieked piercingly, and Spock clapped his hands over his sensitive Vulcan ears.

"Phasers to kill!" he shouted, and the security team scattered, whipping out their weapons. The creature howled as it was fired upon on all sides, but the killing phaser fire did little to affect it's massive size. Lieutenant Ball was helping Bones to his feet, and Spock dragged the semi-conscious Captain behind an outcropping for cover.

"Captain Kirk," he urged, and the golden man shifted slightly. He shook his shoulders, cupped his face. "Jim!"

"Aim for its eyes!" Lieutenant Scroggins shouted, and a member of Beta Squad screamed and dropped as the creature fell upon him, tearing the fabric of his suit and then the flesh from his bones.

"Lieutenant Syr!"

The Captain stirred, sitting up and clutching the front of Spock's suit. He winced, pressing on his bruised ribs.

"Are you injured, Captain?" Spock inquired, and Jim shook his head, assessing the situation foggily.

"What's happening?" He demanded, and Spock gripped his upper arm, pulling him to his feet and steadying him when he swayed.

"You were attacked by a large and violent creature. I believe you have procured a concussion, Captain. The security officers are currently attempting to bring the situation under control," he explained rapidly and efficiently, and Kirk nodded, leaning on the rock as he came back to his senses.

"The phasers seem to be relatively ineffective on the creature, it appears to have armor plating," Spock explained, one hand still holding Jim's elbow should he need his help, and the Captain peered around the rock at the monster attacking his crew. Their ferocity had increased tenfold with the fall of their companion, and he breathed a sigh of relief to see Bones a relatively safe distance away from the rampaging beast.

"Communicators still down?"

"Affirmative."

"Any way to signal the Enterprise to initiate phasers?"

"Perhaps an emergency signal would be powerful enough to punch through the atmospheric disturbance," Spock postulated, and Jim nodded, pulling out his communicator. He cranked up the volume and signal strength to full and signaled and SOS, pushing the device into Spock's hands as he removed his Phaser.

"Captain, you are in no condition to be engaging a creature of such size or strength in combat," the Science Officer warned, and Jim ignored him, creeping around the rock slowly.

"I won't get close enough to get hurt," he lied, and Spock gripped his arm suddenly and with startling strength. He physically dragged Jim back behind the rock, pushing his Captain rather forcibly against the rough surface.

"I cannot allow you to place yourself in that unnecessary and extreme danger, Jim. I will not suffer you to die," he asserted, and Jim raised his hands in surrender.

"Alright, alright. You lead and I'll follow, but we have to help those men."

Spock agreed and moved out into the open, phaser set on the highest kill setting. The creature was flailing in agony, striking out at anything that moved, but the crew had learned how to avoid its sharp legs and darting mouth and were wearing it down. It shrieked that piercing screech again, and Spock grimaced as his ears rang.

"Aim for its eyes and mouth," Jim whispered, a steadying hand on the Vulcan's shoulder, and Spock placed a well aimed phaser blast directly down the monster's throat. It roared in pain and finally toppled over, writhing back into its hole. The crew circled warily, but it did not stir again and they retreated a safe distance back to the riverbed. Lieutenant Scroggins carried the desecrated remains of Lieutenant Syr, and Bones grimaced as Jim's jaw tightened painfully.

"It's not your fault, Jim. We couldn't have known there would be monsters like that on this planet," he comforted, and Spock's eyebrows drew together slightly in a Vulcan frown.

"That is an interesting point, Doctor," he commented, and Bones whirled on him furiously, but when he noticed the intensely thoughtful look on Spock's face he paused in his explosion.

"That creature is not native to this planet; or even this quadrant. I have heard only rumors that may coincide with its existence, and those in the Gamma Quadrant."

"What would a centipede monster from the Gamma Quadrant be doing on a vaporized planet here in the Alpha Quadrant?" Scroggins asked frustratedly, and Kirk shook his head. The emergency signal suddenly cut out, and they began to melt away as the transporter locked onto their signals.

Thus was born the mystery of Alfa-177, and the sinister beginnings of a much larger mystery indeed.


	3. Many Unsettling Things

**Hello again! Hope you're enjoying this little adventure! **

**If you like some of the ridiculous things I write, check out my other Star Trek story, T'hy'la Tribbles, for some good old Kirk/Spock gallivanting.**

**Read, Review, Enjoy.**

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_Chapter Three: Many Unsettling Things_

_"It's a miracle!"_

_"There are no such things."_

_"Engineering to Mr. Spock. You'd better get down here."_

_"Better hurry."_

_Panic, fear, disbelief. This can't happen, it can't, he can't, no no no NO-_

_"Open it!"_

_Pain, anger, agony. Blue eyes glisten weakly, a ghost of a smile._

_"Our ship?"_

_"Out of danger."_

_"I did what you would have done."_

_No, this is so much more than anyone should ever do, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few but not the needs of the one because I need you, I can't live without you, why don't you understand that-_

_"I'm scared Spock."_

_Of course you are. How do you think I feel? I'm terrified, I don't know what to do, I can't help you-_

_"Help me not to be. How do you choose not to feel?"_

_I can't help you, helpless, hopeless, angry, hurt, devastated, too much feeling, too strong, too much-_

_"I do not know. Right now I am failing."_

_Failing not to feel, failing control, failing to help you, failing at everything, everything that matters-_

_"Take care of our ship."_

_Light fades, promises, burning, rage, sorrow, loss-not again-not this time, never again-_

_"KAAAHHHHNNNN!"_

"Ah!" Spock jolted awake, his sleep shirt clinging to his back in cold sweat, his heart racing. He untangled himself from the blankets, throwing them aside as he stumbled free of their smothering hold. The washroom was too far away, and the cool water he splashed on his face felt frigid to the touch.

What was wrong with him? This amount of terror and sheer emotion from something as simple as a dream? It was downright shameful. No matter his personal friendship and camaraderie for Kirk, he should have long since been capable of putting his feelings of loss behind him. Jim was alive. He needed to remember that.

The communicator on his desk blipped, and he glanced at it accusingly.

"Commander Spock?"

He straightened himself out and retrieved the device, facing the porthole and settling into his rigidly calm position.

"Yes, Lieutenant Uhura?"

"The Captain is requesting your presence. Yes, he knows you're on break right now and he apologizes, but he says it's urgent."

Spock nodded, despite the fact that no one could see. "Acknowledged, Lieutenant. Please inform the Captain that I will be there momentarily."

The communication cut out, and Spock set the device back on the desk. Nyota had been nothing but professional and cool about her interaction with him, and he had to admit the fact that he did not mind this particular development. It felt as though a proverbial weight had been lifted from his shoulders; this was not due to any ill will towards the Lieutenant, but more towards himself. He no longer had any reason to feel concerned about anyone other than himself and those immediately around him. Her presence had already faded back to that of another crewmen.

Spock remade his bed and donned his uniform, smoothing his bed rumpled hair and observing his reflection for a moment in the mirror. He seemed calm and collected of course, but his eyes were dark and heavy. The faintest dark rings rimmed his eyes, a side effect of his poor sleep for the last few weeks. He would have to inquire with Doctor McCoy about something to aid in the action of sleep soon if he could not bring the problem under control himself, which was a thought most displeasing to him.

Three minutes, ten seconds and thirteen milliseconds later, Spock arrived on the bridge to find it in near chaos. Kirk, McCoy, Chekov and Scott were huddled around a monitor, either conversing or arguing (it was honestly quite difficult for Spock to tell the difference sometimes with humans) intently.

Kirk, upon hearing the opening turbolift, glanced up from the conversation, and his eyes lit up with relief and happy familiarity at the sight of his First Officer.

"Spock! Glad you're here," he said, placing a hand on the Vulcan's shoulder and drawing him into the circle.

"Ve hev been able to determine zat a sheep was indeed in orbit around ze planet recently," Chekov explained, bringing him up to speed, and Scott glowed proudly.

"The buggars left an energy signature powerful enough to light Earth's cities for a year," Scotty explained, "But the particular type dinnae resemble anything the Federation, Klingons or any other known spacecraft would use. Ah'd love te get mah hands on that type of technology!"

"Very good Mr. Scott. What does this tell us about the potential culprits?" Spock clarified, and the crew wilted slightly at his realism.

"Well nothing about who did do it, but at least it can tell us who didn't," Bones defended, and Jim laid a hand on his best friend's shoulder to stop a fight before it could begin between the two.

"We've cut down the possible suspects considerably, it's a good place to start. What I need you to do, Spock, is determine what kind of a culture could potentially have this type of technology. Any known race that could be dangerous to the Federation in this or any nearby Galaxy," Kirk directed, and Spock nodded obediently, moving to his station and buckling in for a very intent study.

.

"Bad news, men," Kirk announced several hours later as his bridge crew sat, frustrated and out of ideas, with very little to show for their efforts.

"You mean worse than the giant dead end we've come up against?" Bones snapped, and Jim rested a hand on his Chief Medical Officer's shoulder.

"I know, I'm frustrated too. But an order just came in from Starfleet for us to double time it to Omicron Ceti III. There's a colony there which hasn't checked in for several weeks, and is assumed to be experiencing severe damage from radiation. We won't get there in time to help any of the colonists, but we've got to retrieve anything we can," he explained, and the crew accepted the shift in priority with admirable grace, returning to their stations to make the necessary arrangements.

Spock paused at his station, a sudden pain striking behind his temples, and closed his eyes to fend off the attack. This was most likely a side effect of his lack of sleep and unusually high stress levels, nothing to be concerned about.

"Mr. Spock!" The Vulcan quickly alerted himself and turned to the Captain, who was observing him with something akin to worry in his eyes.

"Would you accompany me to deliver some classified files to Engineering?" he asked, and Spock nodded, although he could not remember any classified orders having been sent. "Mr. Sulu you have the conn," Kirk ordered as he joined his Science Officer in the lift, but when the doors whooshed closed Jim stopped the lift's journey between floors.

"Is something the matter, Captain?" Spock asked, and Jim turned to him with definite concern on his expressive human face.

"Is everything alright, Spock?"

The Vulcan feigned ignorance. The fact that his commanding officer had noticed his physical and mental weakness was unacceptable, and he would have to remedy his shortcomings as soon as possible.

"Of course, Captain. Why would you have cause to believe otherwise?"

Jim's blue eyes softened. "You just seemed a bit pained or distracted is all. Nothing a Captain would have noticed, but it's something a friend would."

This explanation calmed some of Spock's tenseness, and Jim saw confliction in his eyes. There was definitely something wrong, but whether or not his Vulcan crewman would share his troubles was another matter.

"It is a small matter, Captain. Simple sleep apnea caused by stress. It is of no real concern, sir," he assured, and Jim gauged his friend's honesty with his piercing eyes. He clapped Spock's shoulder and accepted this explanation, restarting the turbolift and exiting on C Deck. Spock raised a questioning eyebrow, and Jim grinned.

"Well I had to give the bridge crew some excuse. Shift's more than over by now anyway," he said nonchalantly, but Spock was left with the specific impression that his Captain had planned the whole thing. Jim was like that; he gave off an air of young rash ineptitude, but his eyes glittered with intelligence.

"Captain," Spock called after his friend, and the human turned curiously. His First Officer caught up with him by taking long strides, and offered the slightest of smiles.

"If you were not otherwise detained, I suppose a game of Chess may prove therapeutic to my condition," he suggested, dark eyes alight with the anticipation of competition, and Jim grinned.

"You know we'll never even out the score, right? You're at least one hundred games behind," he pointed out as they walked side by side to his quarters. Spock popped an eyebrow.

"Exactly ninety seven, Captain. I believe I am improving my skills."

Jim laughed, bright and unfettered.

"We'll see, Mr. Spock. I wouldn't hold your breath."

Spock gave him a confused look as they entered the cabin. "Why would I hold my breath, Jim?"

Kirk shook his head, waving the comment away as he retrieved the chess set from its place on the windowsill.

"Human figure of speech, Spock. It means don't get too confident."

Spock sat down across Jim's desk, hands folded and an intense look in his eyes. "I do not believe my confidence is undeserved, Captain."

Jim sat down too, accepting the first move as usual. He watched Spock deliberate his move, dark eyes gliding across the chessboard. Long fingers finally grasped a shiny black pawn and placed it one platform up, facing off with Kirk's pawn.

"New insight about the situation on Alfa-177 has come to my attention, Captain," Spock said suddenly, throwing Jim's concentration enough to send his second pawn rolling across the floor.

"What do you mean, Spock?" He asked as the Vulcan retrieved the piece, and Spock's dark eyes were troubled.

"The creature from the Gamma quadrant. It must have been placed there purposely, but that purpose evaded us. It was seemingly random, unless-"

"Unless it wasn't the only thing they left behind!" Jim leapt from his chair with the excitement of discovery, and Spock nodded.

"Perhaps the intent in leaving such a hostile creature was to protect something which was left on the planet."

Jim was already to the door, and Spock followed with long-legged steps. They practically ran to the turbolift, and Jim punched the button for the communicator.

"Kirk to bridge, tell Sulu to get this boat turned around! We're going back to Alfa-177!" he commanded, and Uhura met this order with momentary stunned silence.

"Shall I alert Starfleet to this change in heading?" she asked; she was reminding Jim that they had current orders, that this action was going directly against those orders and that she would support whatever he decided. He shook his head with a grin.

"Omicron Ceti III will have to wait, Lieutenant. Warp 7 back to the planet, and have Chekov park us in standard orbit," he cut the transmission and blipped Sickbay.

"Bones, we're going back to the planet. Suit up a heavily armed security unit and meet us in the Transporter Room."

"Back to the planet?! Jim, what-"

"Five minutes, Bones."

Jim redirected Spock down yet another hallway, briefing him on the scheme which had been developing the duration of their journey.

"That creature was subterranean. If they specifically chose something to protect underground, then whatever they want must be underground," he postulated, and Spock nodded.

"A logical leap, Captain."

The security detail had already assembled, and Kirk tugged his biosuit over his head as Bones stormed over.

"Jim, this is ridic-"

"Mr. Chekov!" Jim had punched the intercom again, completely ignoring his CMO, and so Bones turned to Spock to take out his anger.

"What's he on about this time?" the Doctor demanded, and Spock shrugged. By now he would have expected Bones to be familiar with the Captain's ways and to be more accepting of them.

"Do a full scan of the planet as deep as two miles. I want to know about any natural caves, tunnels or anything that may not be planet made."

"A-Aye Kepten!"

Spock clipped his helmet into place as the Captain spun, helmet under his arm, to face his crew.

"Now listen men, this is going to be a highly dangerous mission. Some of you nearly lost your lives last time we set foot on this godforsaken planet, and I won't ask any of you to do so again if you don't want to. Anyone who'd like to opt out may do so now."

Spock glanced at the assembled security personnel and waited expectantly for several to leave, but not a single one glanced away from Kirk. Bones smiled slightly, something akin to pride in his hazel blue eyes. These men were strong, brave, and skilled; but above all, they were fiercely loyal to this man who had seen them safely through not one, but two world altering, earth-ending crises.

That was a sentiment the Vulcan understood perfectly. In fact...his personal sentiments towards the Captain were, as of late, of a growingly unusual and somewhat unsettling nature.

"Then let's get down there to find out what exactly is worth protecting."

As the security outfit finished suiting up, the comm whistled from the wall for the Captain's attention.

"Yes Mr. Chekov?"

"Kepten, beneath ze planet surface-it is amazing! Tunnels and tunnels, zey must go on for miles!"

Something dark and victorious gleamed in Kirk's eyes at having his theories validated. But the small triumph wasn't enough, it was never enough for the voracious heart of an explorer.

"They must converge somewhere. Is there any kind of beginning point, or some sort of center?"

"Zere is a massive cawern sewenty meters down, Kepten, roughly elewen miles southeast of current position."

"Good work, Mr. Chekov. Move the ship directly over that location and hold position until further orders. Kirk out."

Scotty seemed decidedly nervous at the realization that the landing party would be beaming down to said cavern, and Kirk gave him a comforting clap on the back.

"I dinnae think the transporter can put you that deep through solid rock, Captain," he warned, and Bones cursed violently as he readjusted Lieutenant Scroggin's oxygen cord and threw his two cents in over his shoulder.

"We'll be rematerialized inside a rock, Jim! I knew man wasn't meant to have his atoms spliced and sent shooting through space!"

"If I may, Captain," Spock interjected into the doctor's growing displeasure, "it may be possible to beam down into a shallower, overlying tunnel and to simply navigate down into the desired cavern."

"That could take hours, days! And we'd have no communication with the ship, no emergency beaming out, nothing!"

"You seem to be approaching hysteria, Doctor, and it may be time for you to sit down until you can bring yourself under control."

"Hysteria my ass! One tiny malfunction and we're boiling in lava, crushed by rocks, eaten by more of those monsters with no way out!"

"Alright, both of you!" Jim broke into his senior officers' bickering, avoiding the comparison to a particularly grumpy old married couple his mind had been making. "We'll follow Spock's plan, but leave a group above ground to link us to the ship. Everyone happy? Good," he finished before Bones could object. Jim glanced around at the assembled team and jerked a thumb at the transporter pad.

"Bones, you go down with the first group. We'll be right behind you." The transporter pad shimmered and the squad dematerialized with a blink.

"Transporter room to landing party, come in," Kirk called, and the reply came through thick static, "Site secured. Send down the second squad."

Spock stepped onto the pad, settling his hands at the small of his back and waiting for his Captain to step aboard. The remaining crew felt the slight tingle that accompanies a transportation before getting the slight shock that came with landing.

"Everyone there in one piece, Captain?" Scotty asked through the interference, and Kirk radioed back an affirmative as Lieutenants Ball and Scroggins set about setting up a defendable basecamp to maintain contact with the ship.

"Alpha Squad ready to beam down to the tunnels," Lieutenant Scroggins reported, and Ball signaled a thumbs up to indicate Beta Squad was in position.

"Hit it, Scotty," the Captain ordered, and Kirk, Spock, Bones, Lieutenant Scroggins and three other security personnel dematerialized, shooting through rock and earth to an unknown fate.

The landing party shimmered into existence and immediately fell into ready stances, phasers set to kill. The tunnel was pitch black, and Scroggins turned on his light, casting a piercing shaft of light through the cave darkness. The others activated the glow-packs in the front of their suits, causing the entire area to glow a soft blue.

"Everyone stay very quiet," Kirk whispered, then gestured for them to follow him ahead. The group crept through the tunnels that had to be twenty feet wide and fifteen feet tall, just the right size for their many-legged friends to fit.

The air was musty and hot, and as they made their way down the slightly sloped tunnel, it began to become very stifling.

"Augh!" Bones flinched and covered his nose as an updraft carried to them a wretched stench. Jim wrinkled his nose and Scroggins coughed, holding his arm over his face.

"Whatever's in the center of these tunnels, we're getting close."

They rounded a sharp turn in the tunnel and were blasted by another reeking blast of hot, humid air. One of the ensigns nearly vomited in his suit, but Bones warned him against it and Scroggins stayed with him until he was able to continue.

A soft rumbling sound caught the attention of Kirk, who was at the front, and he shot an arm out, catching Spock across the chest and warning him to stay back.

"Aaah!" Suddenly the ground disintegrated beneath the Captain's feet, and he went sliding down a chute that had been barely concealed by a layer of earth.

"Jim!"

He flung his arms out, suit catching and whizzing against the walls, and dug in hard with his heels. His feet met empty air and he twisted violently, barely catching himself on the ledge of what he felt was a great precipice.

"Jim!" the panicked voice of Bones echoed down the chute, and Jim grunted as he dragged himself back onto solid ground.

"Captain," Spock's lower and calmer voice called, and Kirk sprawled on the floor panting from the adrenaline and exertion.

"I'm fine. No one move, I'm going to check my surroundings," he replied, pulling his flashlight from his suit. The glow barely reached two feet out into the murky in front of him, and he shined the beam of light out into a massive space where it faded in the onslaught of darkness. He crept forward, aiming it at what he hoped would be the ground, and found himself gazing down a hundred foot drop.

"I am coming down, Captain," Spock decided, and Kirk turned with a start.

"Be careful, Spock! There's a big drop at the end. Don't slip," he warned, and his command was followed by the soft sounds of the Vulcan shimmying down the chimney. Bones must have followed, because there was a momentary scuffle and some muffled curses as he slipped, crashing into Spock and nearly knocking them all down the tunnel.

A hand on Jim's shoulder alerted him to the presence of his senior officers, and a beam of light glancing off the walls determined that Lieutenant Scroggins and the two ensigns were waiting for them at the top.

"This is the main cavern. We're about halfway up the wall," Jim informed his officers, and Bones looked startled.

"We're not actually going in there, are we?" He hissed, and Jim shushed him with a wave.

"I need to get a better look."

Spock offered his own flashlight, and the two beams of light cut through the inky darkness around them. It was practically useless.

"I have a flare, sir," Scroggins called.

"Toss it down, Lieutenant."

The small tube bounced down the shaft and into Kirk's waiting hand, and he turned to the opening before him.

"You sure that's a good idea, Jim?" Bones warned, eyeing the darkness warily, and Jim stared at the flare thoughtfully.

"We need to take a look inside."

He snapped the end of the flare, igniting the spark, and tossed it as high as he could in the confined space. It burst to life at the top of its arc, bathing the chamber in vivid red light, and the three men gave identical breaths of awe. The room was as big as they had imagined, two hundred feet high and twice that wide, and the entire surface seemed pebbled with little growths of round crystals or rocks. The light died out, leaving an impression on their retinas.

"Those things line the walls of the whole chamber," Kirk breathed, and Bones suddenly reeled back in realization.

"They're eggs, Jim! This is the nest! We've just crawled into the middle of a hive of those monsters!" he snapped under his breath, and Spock gave the Vulcan equivalent of a grimace.

"It would appear that the Doctor's theory is correct. I would suggest we leave this place immediately."

"Not yet," Kirk replied, and Bones' eyes flashed furiously. "I'm going to get some of those eggs. We need to take them back to the ship for analysis."

"What?!" both Spock and Kirk shushed Bones' outburst, but his offense remained.

"We came all the way back for this! There's got to be something about these creatures that made it necessary to wipe out the surface of the planet the way it was. We can't leave empty handed."

The two men stared stubbornly at each other for a moment before Spock broke in with his professional opinion.

"It would be an unnecessary risk to you, Captain," he replied, but Jim suddenly clipped the front of his safety cable to the hook on the front of Spock's suit and began to clamber off the ledge.

"Jim!" Spock grabbed both his arms, holding him there forcibly. "You must stop placing yourself in dangerous situations! You are the Captain, the Enterprise cannot function should you die here," he reprimanded, and Jim rapped on the hard material of Spock's helmet with a grin, startling the Vulcan into releasing his hold.

"Then make sure you pull me back up. I'll be back in no time."

He lowered himself onto the edge of the wall and began to repel down, belaying himself several feet before his feet came back into contact with the wall. He came to a cluster of eggs and pulled out his knife, chipping away the gluey substance holding them to the wall. One came free and he tucked it inside a pouch in his suit. He turned to a cluster a few feet down, slightly smaller and varying in color, and popped one of those free as well. One more egg from another lower cluster and he was satisfied, and hit the button to reel himself to the top.

"See? No sweat," he comforted as he emerged over the ledge, and handed two of the eggs to Bones. The doctor made a disgusted face at the slightly slimy things, but put them into his pockets obediently. Jim held out the third egg to Spock when suddenly he was jerked backwards off the ledge with such force that it nearly snapped the cable still attaching him to his First Officer.

"Captain!"

The force which had torn Jim away shrieked, clutching the Captain in its massive mandibles. It chomped down, but it seemed to be having trouble breaking the helmet, the only thing standing between Jim and a violent death. Suddenly it jerked to the side in pain as Bones fired on it.

"Aim for the eyes!" Spock ordered as he clutched the cable with all of his Vulcan strength, refusing to let this savage creature remove James Kirk from his hold.

Another stark blast of phaser fire struck the monster in the head area and it roared, tossing Jim loose with the sound of tearing fabric. The man fell several feet and bounced against the wall, hanging limply at the end of his safety wire.

"Spock, get him up here!" Bones shouted, firing again on the beast, and it reared away, flailing in pain as the Vulcan pulled his Captain up from where he had fallen as quickly as he could. He reached with his entire torso and hauled Jim to safety, launching them both back from the edge with a kick of his legs. Bones was in the process of covering them, swearing vehemently at the monster, and Spock quickly draped Jim's arms over his shoulders, wrapping the cord around his waist and chest before securing it again at the front of his own suit.

"Quickly, Doctor!" he commanded, and Bones laid down a few more shots before they scrambled madly up the tube. The particular beast which was pursuing them was too large for the small tunnel and scrabbled furiously at the entrance for naught.

"Scroggins! Get Ball on the comm and tell Scotty to beam us up! Now!" Bones shouted as they neared the top of the chute, and the Ensign with the communicator blanched.

"We're too deep sir, we have to raise our elevation to communicate!"

Spock crawled out of the hole and lunged to his feet, already making his way up the tunnel. The humans raced after him, sensing the situation was urgent.

"Spock, let me take a look at Jim," Bones demanded, but the Vulcan shook his head.

"He is still breathing, but his oxygen supply is damaged and we must remove him from the harmful atmosphere as soon as possible. You can do nothing for him until we are aboard the Enterprise," he replied quickly and efficiently, and Bones swore violently as he nearly tripped on a rise in the tunnel.

"I have a signal!" Ensign Tyree shouted, and immediately set about arranging to be beamed aboard. The landing party stopped then, and now that the sound of running feet and pounding heartbeats had faded from their ears they realized there was a much more sinister sound to hear.

The skitter and scratch of thousands of legs approached from all sides, and Ensign Tyree paled and told Beta Squad to double time that order.

"Hurry Scotty," Bones pleaded, and just as the first creature appeared in the tunnel the group faded into nothing but atoms and energy, safely shooting through rock and air to the transporter room.

"Clear the pad, Beta Squad is still down there!" Scotty ordered as soon as they rematerialized aboard, and Spock quickly untangled the Captain from the cord which had bound him there.

"Sickbay, prepare a bed for Captain Kirk," he ordered through the comm on the wall, and then he and Bones made a beeline through the halls. Crewmembers stopped in shock and stepped aside as their first officer came rushing by with the Captain in his arms, and as they made their way onto the turbolift Spock took the two precious eggs that had survived the encounter from Bones' pockets. He handed them off to a science ensign standing by with wide eyes.

"Ensign Roach, please take these to the bio labs for analysis. Be gentle with them," he warned, glancing at Jim.

"The Captain may have given his life to get them."

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**Awwww who does that? Answer; me. Hope the cliffhanger is enough to keep you all onboard! Love you!**


	4. Successes, Failures, Oddities

**Welcome back for another round, readers! **

**Some shameless advertising here: my baby brother (not so baby) just made an FFN account and posted his first Elder Scrolls Fanfic. If you like Skyrim, Oblivion, or any other Elder Scrolls game, go read it! I beta for him and he's great. End shameless advertising. I love you guys!**

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_Chapter Four: Successes, Failures and Several Inexplicable Oddities_

"I need a transfusion of AB- blood, a decontamination unit and an oxygen apparatus stat!" Bones ordered as soon as the doors to sickbay slid open, and several nurses who had already prepared an operating table rushed about to do his bidding. Spock lay Jim gently on the bed, noting the pallid tone of the Captain's normally flushed human skin.

"Spock, get that suit off of him while I get clean scrubs," Bones directed, and Spock set about peeling the protective material away from Jim's skin. The cracked helmet came off without the usual hiss of pressurized air, and several large gashes had been torn in the fabric. Spock lifted Jim carefully as he finished removing the damaged suit, leaving him in slightly stained Starfleet Blacks.

"Get out of that suit and get back here fast, I need your help," the Doctor commanded as he returned, gently but firmly moving Spock out of the way, and the Vulcan did as he was ordered quickly and efficiently, returning to the Doctor's side with all possible haste decontaminated and ready to assist.

"Get that shirt off too, he's got some torso injuries," McCoy said as he hooked Jim to the oxygen machine, and Spock examined the Captain's current state and decided removing the shirt over his head conventionally would be ill advised. He gripped the fabric at the center of the lower hem and tore straight up, easily separating the threads and freeing Jim of the hinderance. Bones seemed startled by this method, but made no comment as he examined their Captain.

"Brain injury, some minor swelling; broken ribs, a punctured lung; gash wound in the lower right back, maybe some kidney damage there; and lung damage from the air of Alfa-177. Hold this here, Spock, stem the bleeding while I take care of the head trauma."

Spock took the offered medical fabric and slid it beneath Jim's wounded side, pressing the adhesive to his flesh. A nurse who was hooking up the blood transfusion noticed the surprisingly tender and worried expression on the Vulcan's face.

"He'll be alright, Mr. Spock, his wounds aren't as severe as Doctor McCoy made them sounds. The only thing to worry about are his lungs, but they'll heal," she comforted, and Spock looked at her, quickly removing any sentiment from his eyes or face.

"Thank you, Nurse, I will be certain to transfer that information to all concerned parties," he replied, a veiled expression of gratitude.

Bones returned wielding some rather dangerous looking medical tools and ordered Spock to help him turn Jim over as gently as possible. The highly absorbent fabric was already soaked through, and Bones' expression hardened.

"Nurse, disinfectant."

He removed the pad, revealing a jagged wound where part of the upper mandible had torn through flesh. He injected a hypo of anti-inflammatory and disinfectant, then sprayed the area with an aerosol as well. The skin graft came from a case of pre-grown skin kept for just an occasion, and Bones repaired some of the damage with a type of chemical that encouraged cell growth. Several repositioned ribs, a patched lung, drainage of brain fluids and another blood transfusion later, Bones sat back and wiped his brow with a shaky laugh.

"Well he'll live, that's certain. The son of a bitch certainly keeps us on our toes with his godawful reactions, doesn't he?"

Spock gave no reply, and wondered if Doctor McCoy could sense the utter exhaustion wearing on his body. When the human clapped a hand on Spock's shoulder and smiled lopsidedly, the Vulcan believed he probably could.

"Sulu can handle the conn for a while longer. You should get some rest. God knows we could both use it!"

Spock rose, tugging his black shirt into place stiffly. "My presence is required in the Laboratory, Doctor. I must see to the condition of the eggs."

McCoy sighed. "Alright Spock."

Bones turned to the prone form of his best friend as the Vulcan all but stalked from Sickbay, and rested a hand on Jim's cool forehead.

"You better get your ass back here to take command of this ship before we all fall into insanity," he muttered, and Jim sighed softly in his sleep.

**.**

The first thing Jim was aware of was a great heaviness over his whole body. _Great_, he thought, _I must be under anesthesia_. He forced one eye open and was met with the bland grey ceiling of Sickbay. Yep, definitely under anesthesia.

"Bon-" he tried to call to his friend, but a shocking dry pain seized his throat and he dissolved into a wheezing, coughing mess. A nurse hurried over, offering him a drink of water, and he realized the reason he couldn't breathe was the strange contraption strapped to his face.

"Captain, please sit still, Doctor McCoy-"

Kirk yanked the mask off with a grimace, but the rush of cool sterile oxygen nitrogen compound that rushed into his lungs sent him into another coughing fit.

"Your lungs are damaged, please Captain! Your respirator!" she tried to help him put it back on, and he shook his head.

"B...Bones," he demanded, and she rushed to the wall to call the doctor. Kirk was trying to stand at this point, and the Nurse called an Orderly for help as McCoy came rushing in.

"What the devil-Jim you idiot! Get back in bed," he roared, pushing the Orderly aside and gesturing violently to the bed. Jim scowled but obliged, still coughing sporadically, and Bones retrieved the discarded oxygen filter.

"You need this to breathe right now, Jim, and I'll tell you when you're well enough to go without it! I told you it was a bad idea to go down into that pit of demon spawn, but does anyone listen to Bones? Of course not. Why would they? Just a silly man with a stethoscope, that's me," Bones grumbled and fussed as he returned Jim to a healthy state, and the Captain groaned.

"S...Spock?" He asked, and Bones rolled his eyes.

"Spock's in the lab studying those eggs you found so important. He's been in there practically since we got back. I swear between the two of you I'm going to die of stress!"

The mention of passing time made Jim try to sit up again, and McCoy urged him back down firmly.

"No, Jim!"

"How...how long have we been back on the ship?"

"A few days, three days Jim! You need more recovery time before you go gallivanting around the ship like the madman you are!" Bones scolded, and Jim relaxed obediently.

"You should have come out of the anesthesia a day and a half ago, but your fool immune system just wouldn't have it! You'll be the death of me I swear it James T. Kirk!"

Jim laughed weakly into his respirator.

"I'll try to stay alive long enough to tell humiliating stories at your funeral," he promised, and Bones rolled his eyes as he took out a threatening looking hypo. Jim swallowed nervously.

"Hey! I'm in perfect health...c'mon, Bones, have some mercy!"

McCoy jabbed his best friend harder than necessary in the neck with a potent mixture, and Jim yelped.

"Ouch! What was that for?" he whined, rubbing hard at the point of injection, and Bones smacked his hand away.

"It's for the infection in your lungs, the bacterial growth in your kidneys, the swelling in your brain and to make you get some godforsaken sleep!"

Kirk felt his eyes beginning to droop and frowned.

"I can't...sleep...I've got a...a ship to run..." he mumbled, and slumped somewhat ungracefully back into the bed unconscious. Bones shook his head before ambling over to the comm on the wall, smacking the button for the bridge.

"He's awake," he called without preamble, and the faint echo of 'Mr. Sulu, you have the conn' was his only indication that he had been heard.

Less than two minutes later-exactly one minute, thirty-four seconds and ninety milliseconds, Spock would argue-the Vulcan first officer strode through the doors of Sickbay, tall and stern with concern flickering in dark eyes.

"What is the Captain's status?" he demanded, and Bones jerked his head over at the prone form of their mutual friend. Spock raised a distinctly irritated eyebrow at the doctor.

"I was under the impression that the Captain had regained consciousness," he said pointedly, and Bones held up two innocent hands in surrender.

"You just missed him. He's sleeping naturally now. If you hang around a while, maybe he'll wake up," he suggested innocuously, and Spock watched the doctor wander into his office and close the door with mild frustration with the general human species. When the Doctor had removed himself from the Vulcan's presence, he turned his dark eyes upon the sleeping form of his friend.

"Jim," he murmured, and the Captain sighed softly and rolled over, facing the sound of Spock's voice. His upturned palm rested just inches from Spock's fingertips, and the Vulcan shot a surreptitious glance around the medical bay. No nurses or orderlies seemed present, and he rested the butterfly tips of his fingers against Jim's open palm.

He was flooded with brief sensations from Jim's sleeping consciousness; drowsiness and nervousness, worry, triumph, pride, care for his crew, his love for his people. He was so vibrantly alive, so vitally human, everything Spock did not understand and wished he did, everything he wanted and needed-

Jim shifted in his sleep, fingers twining around Spock's in a thoughtless embrace, and the Vulcan jerked back sharply, the unintended intimacy startling him and, more surprisingly, sending his heart racing. Jim stirred in his sleep, frowning and sighing softly.

Spock brushed himself off, glanced around once more and rested a gentle two fingers against Jim's temple.

"Sleep peacefully, Jim," he murmured, and all traces of distress faded from his Captain's features as he settled into a deep sleep. Spock traveled back to the door, but lingered there, turning back once more to gaze at his Captain.

He needed to meditate greatly.

.

_Darkness. Then, surging from it, a creature with a gaping maw as black as the depths of space. A desperate cry, wide hazel human eyes, falling through space, blue eyes gone dark as life fades._

_"Spock!"_

_Jim is reaching, stretching for Spock's hand, falling away into that unreclaimable darkness. He catches that human hand, clinging to the thin bond between them, he will not suffer Jim to die! Then suddenly Jim's body unravels into an infinite golden thread that falls through the Vulcan's fingers, impossible to hold._

_"No, no!"_

_The ground disintegrates beneath him, and he collapses to the cold stone earth with nothing but sand drizzling between his hands. The hollow husk of Alfa-177 looms over the horizon like a demonic eye, and the shrieking of the creatures mingles with the cries of dying Vulcans and a single desperate plea, "Spock! Spock!"_

_Jim is burning, flesh sizzling, skin flaking away into ash, his voice screaming-_

Spock jolted violently awake once again, another night of sleep rudely interrupted by the irrational hallucinations of his subconscious mind. He stumbled to the washroom, the frigid cold of tap water on his flushed skin hardly a comfort in this hour of supreme unrest.

Why was this happening to him? He had been plagued by nightmares before, yes, but never to this degree, never to this extreme. Why now?

A whistle from the comm on the wall alerted him, and he pressed the reply button as he attempted to compose himself.

"Spock here."

"Commander Spock, your presence is requested immediately in the Bio Lab."

"Acknowledged. I will be there shortly. Spock out," he replied quickly, and set about making himself somewhat presentable. He forcibly expelled his weariness and unsettled feelings; they were weak, they could not maintain a hold upon him.

He combed his hair and deemed himself ready to interact with the world once again, forging his way through the hallways to the Bio lab where his presence was required. He stepped past the doors and found himself confronted with an unexpected view; James Kirk cradling an egg.

"Captain, you should be resting," he said immediately, and Kirk grinned, waving his first officer over.

"I'm fine, Spock, Bones doesn't know I'm here," he assured, which was not the same thing as 'Bones said I was free to come here' or 'Bones gave me permission to leave sickbay,' but had a connotation which implied Jim had broken loose behind Doctor McCoy's back. But the fact that he was holding one of the eggs which Spock himself had spent the last few days analyzing made him nervous.

"We are uncertain as to the nature of these eggs, Captain. They are unstable and could hatch at any time," he warned, and Jim nodded.

"Good."

The Vulcan just stared blankly at his Captain. He knew Jim well enough by now to understand that if he made an irrational, illogical and unusually vague statement, he would most likely elaborate upon in within due time. So Spock waited patiently, simply raising an eyebrow at his friend expectantly.

"We're going to incubate the eggs," Jim announced, and the lack of reaction in the rest of the lab would indicate that the crewmembers inhabiting it had already been made aware of Jim's plan, leaving Spock the only one out of the loop.

"Why would we do such a thing?" he inquired, and Jim replaced the egg in the small incubator which had been made for them.

"These eggs are the only substantial evidence we have from the planet. We can't gain any information by dissecting them; so let them grow. I highly doubt there's anything those two baby monsters can whip up that we can't handle," he decided confidently, and one of the eggs split open with a piercing shriek as if directly in spite. Spock shook his head.

"Quite the new pet you've brought home this time, Captain!" Scotty called with a laugh, and Jim ducked with a yelp as the newly hatched alien spawn launched some of its recently shed shell his way. Spock watched the debacle fondly but carefully, waiting for the event of Kirk's need for his assistance.

"Yeh might be in over yer head this time, sir!" Scott catcalled, and although Spock knew logically the taunt was meant for Jim, he could not help but wonder if he was not in a similar emotional state.

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**Sucks to be emotionally suppressed and weird, huh Spock? We'll try to sort through that tangled shriveled thing you call a heart and straighten it out.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	5. An Ominous Coincidence

**Have an Update. I love you guys!**

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_Chapter Five: An Ominous Coincidence_

His fingers flew over the keys of his station, taking scans, checking progress on experiments, sending commands, updating information, a thousand tasks at once. Nothing less could be expected of the Enterprise's Science Officer, of course.

He glanced up, dark eyes flashing about the bridge efficiently, when they met blue eyes that had actually been directed his way for a few minutes.

"Spock?" The Captain said again, and the Vulcan had the distinct feeling that Jim had called his name at least once already. He cleared his throat somewhat abashedly.

"Yes, Captain?" he asked, and Jim kindly pretended he hadn't noticed his First Officer's uncharacteristic lapse in attention.

"Brief us on the situation from Starfleet," he prompted, and Spock nodded, tapping a selection to put information on the main viewscreen. A small rocky planetoid appeared, surrounded by several space stations.

"This is Galador II. At 0200 hours, the computer director of this planet reported a complete systems failure on the Federation mining operation in existence on the planet, then ceased all transmissions. Cause unknown."

"Any life forms on this planet that could be contacted?"

"None. The planet is class G, containing much dense vegetation and some animal life, but not suitable for humanoid life forms."

"Speculate a cause," Kirk suggested, and Spock popped an eyebrow.

"Data insufficient, Captain."

"Come on, Spock," He wheedled, "take a guess."

Spock inhaled bracingly. Normally he would have delivered a lecture about how Vulcans never 'guess' and that the human practice of doing so was quite irksome, but instead he humored his friend.

"The cause could stem from many sources; a failure of some vital machinery, a human error in the last repair run, an attack by some enemy of the Federation, raiding by pirates, a meteor shower, a severe solar storm severe enough to short out power circuits-"

"Alright, Mr. Spock, we get the picture," Kirk cut him off, but the words were supportive, not chastising as they may have seemed outwardly. The minutiae of human language still eluded the Vulcan at times, especially where humans he was close to were concerned.

"Mr. Sulu, take us to Galador II at warp 7."

"Aye aye, Captain."

"It could be nothing, but it could also be something as serious as Klingons, so we'd best come out of warp with shields up Mr. Chekov."

"Aye, Kepten!"

"Uhura, send a message to Starfleet Command that the Enterprise is on an intercept course and will report upon arrival. When you've finished that, scan the space surrounding the planet for any transmissions that could give us some kind of indication as to who might be lurking out there."

"Yes sir."

"Spock," Kirk's eyes darted to his first officer with an oddly veiled expression, "come with me. There are some specific matters you need to be briefed on."

Spock blinked in slight surprise-the Captain very rarely drew him aside before a mission, there was almost nothing they could share which the Captain did not trust to his Bridge Crew-but nodded and followed the man in gold to the turbolift. Once on, Jim stopped the lift between floors, turning to Spock with gentle eyes.

"Is everything alright, Spock?" he asked, and the Vulcan sighed internally-this habit Jim was developing of prying into his personal affairs had begun to grow irksome.

"If you are referring to the incident on the bridge, I was merely preoccupied with other matters when you addressed me and therefore did not-"

"Its not about that," Jim interrupted, and Spock fell silent.

"Then upon what are you basing your concern, Captain?" he asked honestly, and Kirk folded his arms, blue eyes giving Spock the distinct feeling that he was growing transparent.

"It's nothing any commanding officer would consider improper behaviour or cause for concern," Jim assured before he began, "but I've noticed as a friend that lately you seem...different. Tired, a bit jumpy, almost distracted. Is everything alright?"

"I am in top physical form and have no trouble attending to my duties," Spock answered almost sharply. "If you believe that I am unfit for duty, then it is your responsibility as Captain-"

"No, Spock, no," Kirk quickly stopped him, "it's not like that. I'm just making sure nothing's wrong. As a friend, not your Captain."

Spock wasn't really sure how to respond to that. "I...appreciate your concern, although it is unwarranted. I am fine, Captain. My condition is temporary and soon to be rectified," he promised, which sparked the identifiable light of curiosity in Jim's eyes.

"Condition? You're not sick, are you?"

Spock cursed himself and his damnable Vulcan honesty. "By condition, I was referring to my very mild insomnia caused by relapsing memories of past stresses and traumas. It is of no consequence," he replied curtly, and Kirk's head tilted almost comically, like a curious dog.

"You still can't sleep?"

"I believe that is what I said, Captain," Spock replied, somewhat irked by that human need to reiterate statements to procure understanding. "As I said, it is of little consequence and will be rectified."

Jim restarted the lift with a small shrug. "Alright," he agreed, dropping the subject for now, and Spock wondered at the conflicting emotions warring quietly in the back of his mind. He was...touched by Jim's concern for him, although a bit irritated by the mild invasion of privacy and startled that his Captain was able to so easily see through him.

"What 'specific matters' require special briefing?" he asked, and Kirk shrugged once again, a very human gesture of nonchalance.

"I'm sure I'll think of something. For now I'm going to check on the progress of the hatchlings," he said, and Spock followed him with a raised eyebrow.

"You lied in order to remove me from the bridge," he pointed out, and Jim gave him a small grin, eyes twinkling.

"I may still give you a secret briefing, I just...found more important matters to attend to first which require your presence," he teased, and Spock found himself pleased by the fact that Jim simply wished to be with him. The two entered the bio lab, and Spock felt Jim's presence tense slightly, back straightening, pulse giving a small jump.

"Doctor Marcus! What a sight for sore eyes! What brings you up from Engineering?" he asked, and the pretty blonde technician gave him a somewhat aloof smile.

"I got a call from the ensign who was alone up here that she needed help. Of course I came, and the poor girl was frazzled to the bone so I sent her to rest. You overwork your crew," she pointed out, and Jim deflated at the rebuttal. She sighed, gesturing for him to come in.

"You ought to get in here and help me with this if you're here anyway," she decided, and the two commanding officers entered the biolab. On one of the tables a makeshift nest had been fashioned, in the center of which nestled a small pale green creature. It was about two feet long with tiny nubs for arms and several pairs of legs, and a small round head which sported large yellow almond shaped eyes. It looked like an enormous beetle larvae.

"This is one of the creatures that hatched out of your eggs," she explained, and at the sound of her voice it wriggled closer, small tiny mandibles chewing at the air. She placed a hand on its head and it stopped its wriggling.

"Both eggs were set to hatch, right?" Kirk asked, sounding nervous, and Marcus gestured across the room. In one of the containment chambers normally used for dangerous bacteria, a much larger larvae like being was curled on the floor, more developed legs twitching occasionally as it slept. Jim frowned.

"They don't even look like the same species," he said, approaching the glass, and as he stepped closer suddenly the creature gave a piercing shriek and flailed onto its many legs, throwing itself against the glass. Jim leaped backwards, knocking into Spock, who steadied him with a hand on both arms.

"Vicious little thing," Marcus said, and Jim looked between the docile creature on the table and the snarling monster attacking the wall of its tank thoughtfully.

"Have we done any DNA tests to determine if they are the same species?" He asked, and Marcus shook her head.

"I'll get some technicians on it right away."

He nodded, and went back to the gentler being. "Go on and touch it, it's quite gentle," she called over, and Jim looked down at the massive insect with some distaste. He reached out a hand and met the skin, then blinked in surprise. Unlike the slimy coating he had expected, the Larvae's skin was smooth and almost warm, like a dolphin's. The creature gave a small clicking chirp and wiggled closer happily.

"This one's awfully nice," Kirk observed, turning to Spock, and the Vulcan raised an eyebrow.

"Humans normally have quite an aversion to most members of the insect family. I find myself surprised that you do not find this one...repulsive," he admitted, and Jim shrugged, scratching the creature as one would a dog.

"He's kind of cute," he decided as it squirmed joyfully.

"It won't be cute if it grows up into one of those monsters from Alfa-177!" a voice snapped from the doorway, and Doctor McCoy entered with an armful of...

"Bones, are those baby bottles?" Jim asked disbelievingly, and the doctor unloaded the armful of exactly that into the Captain's arms.

"Yes, Jim, they are. This creature's mandibles are soft, like baby's gums, and it can't seem to eat solid food yet. So we're going to feed it like an infant. A giant infant bug. I didn't sign up for this!"

He stormed off growling and Jim laughed, letting the bottles cascade onto one of the tables. Spock turned to glance at the creature as Bones and Dr. Marcus fussed and argued over the content of the creature's bottle.

Spock shook his head and asked to return to the Bridge, leaving the lab upon receiving it. He truly just didn't understand humans.

.

Several days later, the Enterprise's First Officer had just reached his quarters in preparation for some much desired rest when his comm blipped.

"Mr. Spock, come in please," the voice of Lieutenant M'Ress called, and he flipped it open.

"Yes Lieutenant."

"We are approaching Galador II, the Captain requests your presence on the Bridge."

"Acknowledged."

Spock did not often return to his quarters for something so simple as a few hours of stolen rest, but his goal was proving to be quite unattainable due to a combination of nightmares and needy Captains.

As he emerged onto the bridge, Lieutenant Uhura was just replacing Lieutenant M'Ress at the communications station, and the human nodded coolly to Spock as he passed to take his place at Kirk's right hand. The main viewscreen was currently taken up by a rocky barren looking world, and Spock checked his readings from the Science Station in alarm.

"Captain, the planet's atmospheric readings are similar to Alfa-177," he realized sharply, and Kirk's eyes darkened.

"Were there any humanoid lifeforms present on that planet, Spock?" he asked softly, and the Vulcan shook his head.

"Negative. The mining system is entirely automated. No repair crews were in the vicinity. All life is..." he paused ominously, "was flora and fauna."

"Mr. Giotto, please assemble a security team, highly armed, in pressure suits," Kirk called through the intercom, then pressed the link for Sickbay.

"Bones, suit up. We're going down," he explained with no further prompting, and stood from his chair.

"Spock, with me. Sulu, you have the conn."

In a well-known arrangement, the landing party beamed down to investigate the odd radio silence and foreboding signs.

"Spock...what are the chances that these creatures could move from planet to planet without the help of sentients?"

A hot wind whipped ash and dust against the landing party's helmets, and Kirk's expression was grim. The blown out windows of the processing plant gaped like hollow eye sockets in the buildings before them, and a high pitched whine warned of impending machine overload.

"Nearly impossible Captain."

Kirk snarled softly, turning and storming past the group, and they watched him silently as he allowed his emotions to run rampant.

"Someone is doing this!" he snapped, stalking through the remains of Galador's creatures. "Someone is taking those creatures and putting them on these planets."

"Why would any sentient being feel the need to do such a thing?" Spock inquired, and Bones rolled his eyes.

"Because there are evil, sick sons of bitches in this galaxy that destroy other beings for fun, Spock. Your Vulcan mind just doesn't compute hatred and evil like it can't understand love or compassion."

Spock glanced at the doctor with something akin to irritation. He popped an eyebrow.

"Really, Doctor?" he muttered, and left the sour human to attend to the angry one to whom he held much deeper of an allegiance.

"Jim," he chided softly, resting a hand on his shoulder, and the Captain turned, muscles relaxing slightly. "Your anger will not rectify the situation. We should verify the presence of the Alfa-177 creatures on this planet and leave quickly to ensure the safety of the crew."

Jim's shoulders fell and he nodded, striding to his security team. "Check the perimeter for any signs of those things from Alfa-177. Stay in pairs, phasers on full. Be cautious. Take care of each other," he ordered, and then tapped Spock's shoulder.

"Spock, you're with me."

The group fanned out, the only sounds the whirring of tricorders, the soft swish of their suits and feet, and the quiet murmurings between pairs.

"So you're really sure?" Lieutenant Scroggins whispered, and Lieutenant Ball rolled his eyes.

"Now's not the time, Mike," he rebuked his fellow security officer, and the blue eyed young man huffed.

"It's a simple request, Kalan, I don't see why you have to-" suddenly the ground beneath Scroggins gave way, and with a shout he fell through the thin covering of ash and dirt and ten feet to the hard earth floor.

"Mike!"

He groaned, sitting up and touching his helmet where his head had bounced against the hard fiberglass. It was dark around him, and a showering of dust rained down from above in the thin shaft of light.

"I'm alright," he called back, getting to his feet with a grunt, "just banged my head. These tunnels-"

A piercing shriek cut him off, and he threw himself to the side instinctively as a creature came striking out of the darkness at him.

"Presence of 177s confirmed, Captain!" he cried into the comm, yanking his phaser from his belt. The newly christened alien reared, yellow eyes glowing in the dim light, and the two circled for a moment, predator and prey.

The 177 screeched and jerked as someone fired on it from above, and Scroggins took his chance and shot a photon down its throat. It writhed and flailed, legs convulsing, and more phaser fire sent it retreating down the tunnel. A shadow passed over the shaft of dim light, and Lieutenant Ball came repelling down to Scroggins' rescue.

"Are you alright, Lieutenant?" Bones called down, a faint outline in the dusky light.

"I'm fine," he replied, "just some bruises. Definitely a situation like Alfa-177."

Ball knelt down beside his friend, attaching his safety wire to the front of his suit. Scroggins grinned as they began to ascend.

"Kinda romantic, don't you think?" he teased, and Ball smacked him upside the helmet with an irritated huff. But his other arm remained steady around Scroggins' waist, and when they reached the surface they were hauled bodily from the hole onto the soft ground.

"We can pretty safely assume they're laying eggs down there," Kirk decided, staring down into the gaping pit.

"The machinery is useless, burned out by the blast," he added, and McCoy glanced at his friend nervously.

"Where are you going with this, Jim?"

"We should destroy them before they can move on to another planet."

The landing party seemed alarmed by this statement, and by what he was suggesting.

"There isn't warrant for that, Captain, they may just be inhabiting this planet after whatever is destroying it."

"You can't blow up a planet, Jim."

"Action without further advice from Starfleet Command would be unwise."

"Alright!" he cut them off. "Alright. We'll notify Starfleet and wait for orders. Let's just hope no populated planet is attacked while we sit on our hands."

The group began back to the beam up coordinates, and someone near Spock said in a hushed voice beside his ear, "Deneva."

"Pardon?" he asked, glancing at the trio of Security officers behind him, and they looked at each other questioningly.

"Sir?"

"If one of you has something which he wishes to say, please do so at a decibel which is audible," he chided, and the confusion on their human faces grew.

"Sir, none of us said anything."

Spock paused, blinking in somewhat embarrassed surprise. "Yes. Of course. Carry on," he instructed, and they did so with some nervous glances at their commanding officer. He frowned slightly to himself, the slightest downturn of lips.

Deneva?

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	6. Progeny

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_Chapter Six: Progeny_

Jim Kirk strode down the hallways of his ship, eyes bright, hair slightly tousled, a man on a somewhat anticipated mission. He turned down another corridor, black boots falling firmly on the steel floors, and took a turbolift to G Deck. Exiting the small elevator, he made a beeline for the BioChemistry lab.

"Good Morning, Doctor Marcus," he called as he entered, and the pretty blonde doctor glanced up, trying to prevent a smile at the Captain's unusual brightness.

"It's 1400, Captain," she pointed out, and he shrugged.

"Then I guess it's more of a Good Afternoon. How are the little tikes today?" he asked, gesturing to the containment chamber and the growing nest on the experiment table.

"Growing faster than they should be," she said, and the 177 in the chamber threw itself against the glass with a shriek. He moved back instinctually, throwing his hands up in surprise. He laughed nervously.

"That's a nasty little creature."

Carol's expression tightened, as if she had taken a bite of an Aenarian sour orange. "That's not the half of it. It attacks anything we put in the tank with it; and soon it will outgrow its containment."

"That sounds like it could be a problem," Kirk decided, and she nodded sarcastically, going over to the nest. The other creature was nestled in the blankets, watching quietly with enormous eyes; it had grown too, but it didn't seem to share the insane growth rate of its larger, somewhat nastier counterpart.

"Are they the same species?" Kirk wondered for the dozenth time, and Marcus reached into the nest, picking up the larva like a small child.

"The DNA is fundamentally similar, but there are slight differences that would suggest they stem from the same parent family into separate genus."

It squirmed into a comfortable position and then lay still, soft mandibles chewing gently on the edge of Carol's uniform sleeve. Kirk raised an eyebrow as she gave it a bottle of some vivid green substance.

"You're pretty good with kids, Carol," he pointed out, and she shrugged, but her eyes were soft.

"Most women have some sort of maternal instinct, Jim," she pointed out, and he warmed as she called him by his name.

"You've never seen a Klingon mother," he joked, and the alien spawn wiggled fitfully in her arms. She bounced it as one would an upset infant, and it quieted its clicking sounds of distress. Jim sidled closer looking down at it curiously. It gazed back with prismed amber eyes.

"You ever want kids?" he asked the technician, and she shrugged, setting the 177 back in its nest.

"Maybe someday. I'm only twenty four, you know," she pointed out, and he grinned. She was five years his junior and already such a prodigy in her field. Sort of like most of the members of his ship.

"Boys or girls?"

"I don't have a preference either way. I have names in mind for both," she admitted, and he leaned closer, eyes sparkling. Carol found her eyes drawn to him, despite her attempts to keep them facing forward. She sighed, knowing full well that the Captain wouldn't let her be until she had satisfied his curiosity.

"If it's a girl, Aela. And David for a boy," she finally said, and he nodded, stepping back.

"Those are good names," he replied with a tilt of his head, and they stared at each other for a moment before the swooshing door broke their hold.

"Captain, I have the information from the Galador II autosave systems you requested," Spock announced as he strode into the room, and Jim and Carol stepped away from each other almost a little embarrassed.

"Right, thank you Mr. Spock," he said, taking the extended files, and his fingers brushed the Vulcan's as he did so. Spock quickly retracted his long arm, eyes flickering to Doctor Marcus, and he stepped back.

"I will take my leave now. I apologize for the interruption." Spock turned on his heel and all but fled the room, and Jim shot an apologetic smile at Carol before he followed his First Officer. Spock took large strides and his legs were longer than Jim's, so it took the Captain a moment of jogging to catch up with the half-Vulcan.

"Hey, Spock, wait up," he finally called, and the dark haired male paused, turning dark questioning eyes on his friend.

"Why'd you leave so quickly? We have things to discuss," Jim pointed out, and Spock raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"You appeared...occupied," he replied carefully, and Jim shook his head.

"Doctor Marcus and I were just talking. What were your findings?"

The two resumed their walking, side by side this time, and Spock explained that he had recovered a curious reading on the automated scanners just before the distress signal was fired.

"The instruments recorded a large ship in orbit before the blast which incinerated the surface of the planet," he began, and the corresponding readings appeared on the PADD in Kirk's hands.

"What kind of a ship?"

"That is the question which requires answering, Captain. It is of no known species, make or model we recognize. However," he interjected, expression thoughtful, "It is likely that whoever pilots this craft is responsible for the destruction of Alfa-177 and Galador II."

Kirk's eyes darkened. "We'd better catch up to them before they can do it again. You think a ship is depositing the 177s onto the planets they destroy?" he theorized, and Spock's lips thinnned contemplatively.

"Unknown. What purpose could such an action serve? We have established that the so-called 177s are not intelligent enough to be in control of a spacecraft themselves, but have not uncovered any data suggesting a second more sentient species prior to now."

"And why are they leaving the creatures behind to hatch eggs?" Kirk muttered, frustrated. Spock's dark eyes offered no answers.

"Another mystery which must be solved."

.

_A beautiful planet floats in the embrace of space, blue and green, spinning with clouds, bursting with life. It is evening, the daynight line beginning to pass before his eyes. A shadow suddenly overtakes it; a ship? It settles low, brushing the atmosphere, and thousands of writhing shapes suddenly drop from bomb doors, littering the planet surface. They swarm over everything; plants, animals, the scattering humans, devouring everything in their path. A high pitched whine shatters the air; the creatures begin to burrow as if their lives depend on it._

_A blast hotter than a thousands stars races across the planet, incinerating the remains and anything left alive, turning a thriving, breathing planet to ash._

_Beneath the ash, the creatures begin to lay their eggs._

_And a voice that whispers, 'Deneva'._

Spock awoke, not as violently as usual, but with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach and aching eyes. He sat up wearily, rubbing the throbbing points of white light behind them.

Again with Deneva? He had never been to the Deneva system, or any of her planets. He knew vaguely that there was a colony located on Deneva Prime and some sort of mining in the asteroid belt of the system. Why was he dreaming of a place he had never seen? It was, logically, impossible for his brain to draw information which he did not know out of his subconscious in the form of dreams; he had no visual knowledge of the planet or her inhabitants, no inkling of what kind of ship had deposited the creatures from Alfa-177, and certainly no imagination that the situation found there would be repeated on another world. All in all, a rather illogical dream.

He rose, washed, dressed, meditated. His shift did not begin for another twenty minutes, but he saw no harm in relieving the Ensign currently occupying the Science Station on the bridge.

Spock exited the Turbolift, stepping onto the main bridge of the Enterprise. The quiet hum of a peaceful but busy crew met his sensitive ears, and he glanced at each of the stations. Uhura's dark eyes quickly looked away from him when his gaze rested on her, but Kirk's blue eyes did not.

"Morning, Mr. Spock. You're a bit early," he said, and the Vulcan paused, eyebrows rising. Was he being chastised? Kirk smiled.

"About time."

Spock nodded, gracing his Captain with the tiniest of smiles and relieving the Ensign at the Science Station. The bridge crew settled into its familiar buzz, tightly woven as a hand knit sweater. This was the Enterprise at its finest.

Suddenly Chekov burst onto the bridge almost wild-eyed, beaming and breathless from running all the way from Engineering.

"I can do eet, Kepten!" he cried, startling Kirk and nearly everyone else on the main bridge with his loud exclamation.

"Do what, Mr. Chekov?" he asked, readjusting himself in his chair where he had started from the loud sound, and the zealous nineteen year old rushed to his arm, pale eyes glittering.

"Track ze sheep!" he cried, and Spock raised an eyebrow, glancing up from his station.

"You will have to be more specific, Ensign, if we are to properly understand your intentions," he chided, and the young Russian made an obvious effort to slow down and to remain speaking English.

"Ze energy signature we discowered at Alfa-177, zere ees one just like eet at Galador two! I scanned for any kind of trail; ions, protons, radiation but nossing! Zen I noticed some strange readings. It was exotic matter, Kepten! Ze remnants of wormhole engines!"

Kirk was on his feet like a rocket.

"Good work, Chekov, see if you can follow the trail, find out where they'll come through. Scotty," he punched the comm for Engineering, "if Chekov tells you to go, you give him everything this ship has got and then a little more. Same goes for you Sulu. Spock, do we know any cultures that are advanced enough for Wormhole travel?" he fired off orders in a rapid burst of commands, and the officers leapt to follow them with record obedience and diligence.

"Several known races possess the capabilities of Wormhole travel," Spock called from the Science Station, and Kirk pointed to him.

"Such as?"

Spock's fingers flew as he researched this information. Uhura, however, beat him to it.

"The El-Aurians of the Delta Quadrant are thought to possess it, but they are a peaceful race. I'd be shocked if they were responsible," she said, and Kirk nodded.

"Ask if any of their ships have gone awal or missing recently. Any others?"

"Only the Kanak'taar," she said, and Spock elaborated, "The Kanak'taar are vaguely humanoid, and cloister themselves in the Gamma Quadrant and hold to an ideology of peace and isolation, but nothing has been heard from them in nearly fifty years. They would be the most logical candidates for investigation."

"Uhura, get a transmission headed for the Gamma Quadrant and send a copy to Starfleet. Try to get something faster there. Ask if the Kanak'taar have any knowledge of a rogue ship destroying planets. Try to emphasize the urgency."

The crew of the mighty flagship rushed off to complete their designated tasks, and Kirk sank back into the Captain's Chair with a sigh.

It had only been two years since he began his Captaincy, more like two and a half since he first commanded the Enterprise in all her glory. The pressure had weighed heavily on his shoulders, but it made them broad, made him strong. It had pitted him against impossible odds, unconquerable situations, and he had come through alive. He had some battle scars-they all did-but their real voyage had just begun. The first three months into their five year mission had been...mostly uneventful. They had some interesting encounters with a Commander Balok, Harcourt Mudd and the android creations of Doctor Roger Korby, among other things. Nothing Kirk had been unable to handle, of course.

That was in part thanks to his phenomenal crew. The faces of his men and women swam behind his eyelids as he closed his eyes briefly, resting back against the chair as they drifted gently in space waiting for a trail to follow. Young Chekov, bold Sulu, striking Uhura, brilliant Scotty. Reliable, grouchy Bones always telling him what to do. Beautiful Carol snarking and flirting just out of his reach.

But he knew fundamentally that he would have died dozens of times over without the comforting shadow of his First Officer at his side. Even now as he contemplated this, he could almost sense Spock at the Science Station, his steady presence lapping at the edges of Jim's consciousness like moonlight. Kirk sat up sharply, shaking himself from his reverie. What was he doing sitting here daydreaming about Spock? He had a ship to run.

Suddenly a call from Security reminded him very sharply of this fact.

"Captain, we have an emergency in Biolab 2!" a voice cried, one he faintly recognized as Lieutenant Scroggins'. He stood quickly.

"What's happened?"

"The larger 177 has escaped from its tank! It wounded Doctor Marcus-she's in sickbay. We're trying to contain it, sir."

Jim's fists clenched. "Scroggins, load that thing full of heavy tranquilizer. Store it in Cargo Bay 9, full security detachment, containment fields on max. It should be safe in there-and more importantly, so should my ship."

"Yes sir." The comm blipped out and Kirk glanced at the door of the Turbolift. Carol had been hurt-could he afford to go to her?

"Exotic Matter trail located, Kepten! We have a lock!" Chekov suddenly cried, and he nodded sharply, sitting back down in his chair.

"Full speed ahead then, Mr. Sulu. Follow that trail. We've got to find the parents of this progeny before it can do any more damage."

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	7. A Voice That Whispers

**I wrote this for you on Vacation! That's how much I love you, love writing and love Star Trek! I hope you enjoy it, drop a review if you get a chance.**

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_Chapter Seven: A Voice That Whispers_

"What do mean we've lost it?!"

Kirk veritably stormed about the bridge as the Enterprise drifted listlessly through space. The trail of exotic matter which they had been tracking with varying levels of success for the last week had apparently vanished without a trace.

"I cannot explain, Kepten, eet ees difficult to track, and traweling at warp-"

"Do what you can to get it back," Kirk ordered, sitting back in the chair. He was wound tight, too tense, very agitated. It had been a day for the young Captain...

_Six hours earlier_

The crew assigned, the ship on course, the crisis with the 177 dealt with, Jim found himself with no reason not to check up on Doctor Marcus in Sickbay. He wandered down to G Deck, more nervous than he really thought he should have felt. Even if she was a beautiful woman, Carol Marcus was first and foremost his best science technician and an important member of his crew. Fraternizing should probably be kept to a minimum.

The doors to the Sickbay complex whooshed open, and he breathed in the cool sterile air that also held the slight scent of an old cologne, rich and familiar. Sickbay smelled like Bones-or, Jim thought, maybe Bones smelled like Sickbay. The two were inextricable from one another.

"Good afternoon Captain!" a bright voice called almost nervously, and he turned to see a young nurse accompanied by a pale blue Yeoman waving to him. He returned the gesture.

"Have you come looking for Doctor McCoy?" the nurse asked, and he shook his head.

"Actually, I came to see Dr. Marcus. Is she alright?"

The nurse nodded, gesturing for him to follow, and the Yeoman-an Aenar, from the coloring and the strange milky quality to her blue eyes-tilted her head questioningly.

"Captain..." she rested light fingertips on his arm as he passed, giving him reason to pause.

"Is Commander Spock feeling ill?" she sounded worried, as if she had some prior knowledge that he might be unwell.

He frowned. "Not that I know of...why?"

She folded her hands behind her back, almost shyly. "Well...we had arranged to play chess. He said he would teach me, but he didn't show up, and it's not like him to be forgetful, so I wondered if he might be feeling ill," she said, and he realized the girl was quite upset about it. He smiled kindly, setting a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sure he meant to come. Spock is very busy." He realized this could potentially correlate with Spock's strange behavior due to his sleeping troubles.

"If you see him, tell him to come and see me," he decided, and then the nurse directed him to the bed in which Carol Marcus lay.

She was sleeping, which was just Jim's luck, but the damage was clear enough. A wide bandage swathed the left side of her face; beneath the pale blue gown they were visible on her right side and leg; her right arm was cradled in a sling, also bandaged.

"The creature attacked her," the nurse explained, and Jim's fists balled up convulsively. A member of his crew-his friend-had been injured this severely on his watch. That was unacceptable.

"She'll be fine, Captain. None of her injuries should scar permanently or cause any lasting irritation. Although..." she paused, looking concerned. "Her eye might not be the same."

"Thank you nurse. Please take care of her as well as you can. You're doing good work," he complimented, then turned on his heel. He felt so much anger at these creatures-the 177s and whoever was ferrying them from world to world-and the worst part about it was that he couldn't do anything about it yet. All the power of a mighty Starfleet Flagship and he was practically helpless in the face of this unknown foe. The culmination of frustration sent his feet towards the Rec Rooms. He passed the games room and the lounge, heading right for the gym and weight rooms. He needed to sweat out his frustration.

The gym was mostly empty at the odd hour, somewhere between one and two in the afternoon, and Kirk made a beeline for the punching bag.

How many hours had he put in on this station? Too many, probably, but it helped channel his testosterone more or less constructively. He swung a sharp right hook towards the dangling sack, making satisfying contact.

That one's for Carol, he thought, taking another swing with his left and knocking the bag sideways. And that's for the life on Galador II. That's for Ensign Syr. This is for Alfa-177. That one's for Bones and all the shit he had to deal with patching Jim up. That's for Spock, just for the hell of it. That's for Sulu, that's for Chekov, that's for Uhura, this is for Scotty, that's for the security officers, this is for every faceless Yeoman and Ensign under his command, that's for the Enterprise herself-

"Captain."

The bag swung from its moorings, landing on the floor with a decidedly defeated THWAP, and Kirk panted, planting his hands on his knees as he gasped to draw air into his damaged lungs. Beating the crap out of a punching bag normally felt great, but there was a stitch in his ribs and a painful tightness in the sutures of his wound that worried him. Spock stood in the doorway, stiff and silent, but his dark eyes conveyed concern.

"You should refrain from such strenuous exercise until you have fully healed. Doctor McCoy would be most aggrieved if you injured yourself further," he warned, and Jim made a face.

"He'd blow a fuse if he found out," he decided, straightening, then cringed and almost doubled over as pain struck out from his wounded side. Alright, maybe too soon after a brush with death to be working this hard. Spock let out a soft sigh.

"Then we will have to attempt to keep your lapse in logic from his attention," the Vulcan said flatly, but there was a sparkle of joviality in his eyes that betrayed the joking conspiratorial nature of his statement. Jim chuckled, allowing Spock to help him straighten. The Vulcan's touch was cool on his arms and his steady pulse thrummed beneath his long fingers.

"Thank you, Spock," he said gently, and the First Officer exhaled softly. His hand on Kirk's bare arm was giving him more of an emotional inflow than he had anticipated. All of Jim's gratitude and appreciation and frustration and overwhelming helplessness and his faith and hope and trust in Spock washed over him, and he had to swallow hard to prevent himself from releasing Jim's arm and therefore endangering his Captain.

A quick turbolift ride and an occasional sway down the hall of D Deck brought the two men to the First Officer's quarters, which happened to be closer to the lift, where Spock guided his commanding officer into a chair somewhat forcefully.

"May I inspect your wound?" he asked, and Kirk grumbled but nodded, leaning his head against the chairback. Spock's delicate fingers inspected the sutures on the gash in the Captain's side. The Vulcan pursed his lips disapprovingly.

"You nearly tore the wound open," he noted, and Jim exhaled long sufferingly.

"It's fine, Spock," he insisted, pushing the Vulcan's hands away, and Spock's jaw tensed noticeably as he stood abruptly. Jim sat back in surprise; he hadn't seen his first officer move so sharply in a long time, and only when he was under great stress and in an uncomfortable situation.

"Jim," Spock began slowly, as if explaining a concept to a child, "you are human. You must come to accept your limitations and to abide by them. If you continue to put yourself recklessly at risk, you will die. In that event, I will be..." he paused. Took a breath. "Most displeased."

Jim smiled crookedly, almost ashamed. "Well I wouldn't want my death to displease you, Mr. Spock," he teased the Vulcan in regards to his wording, but the serious and almost vulnerable look in Spock's dark eyes gave the Captain reason to break off his joviality.

"The crew of this ship, myself included, would be grievously wounded by your passing, Captain," Spock said softly, and Jim realized this was the Vulcan equivalent of explaining that he would be missed. Spock would miss him. Jim smiled, standing up and resting a friendly hand on Spock's shoulder.

"I'll do my best, Spock," he promised, and his Science Officer granted him a tiny smile. That little victory warmed Jim's heart. Any time he managed to pull a display of emotion from the half-Vulcan he felt a joyful swell in his chest, warm and thick like honey. He began to expound upon his promise when his body was wracked by a bout of hacking coughs, painful and harsh. Spock raised a concerned eyebrow.

"You seem to be experiencing discomfort in your lungs. I will retrieve your respirator from Sickbay," he decided, turning and leaving the Captain alone in his quarters. Jim rested back in the chair, spinning the seat with his long legs. Spock's quarters reminded Jim of the Vulcan himself-elegant, efficient, simple on the surface but with deeper personal touches. The dry heat weighed heavily on the human's skin, but the scent that permeated the room was soothing. It smelled dry and clear, like a desert, and also something pleasantly sharp, like sage. It smelled like Spock. He closed his eyes, relaxing and letting the environment wash over him. It was relaxing, soothing.

There was a knock at the door, and Jim frowned, contemplating opening his eyes or remaining peacefully at rest. The knock repeated, sharply. Well whoever it was would be looking for Spock anyhow, so they'd have to come back later.

"Dammit you green blooded hobgoblin, I'm coming in anyway," a very familiar and very disgruntled voice snapped, and the doors swept open to give way to Doctor Leonard McCoy. The CMO stomped into the room, glanced around, expression turning obviously confused, and then his hazel blue eyes fell on Jim in the chair and he paled visibly.

"O-Oh, Jim. Where's, ah, why are you in Spock's quarters?" Alone? Without a shirt? was sort of implied, and Jim raised both eyebrows and gave a short laugh.

"Hiding from you, actually Bones," he admitted, and his best friend looked startled. "I, ah..." Jim flinched as the motion of raising his arm to scratch at his head caused his wound to tighten in protest, "may have overdone it at the gym. Spock was helping me recover. We both knew you'd blow a fuse."

Bones pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Then Jim frowned thoughtfully as something occurred to him.

"Speaking of being in Spock's quarters...what are you doing here, Bones?" he asked, and the Doctor glanced at the door nervously.

"Jim, I really can't talk about what goes on between me and my patients-" the doctor began, but Jim lunging from his seat cut him off mid-sentence.

"Is something wrong with Spock?"

Meanwhile, that particular Vulcan officer was making his way back up from Sickbay, respirator in hand. He stepped out of the complex on G Deck, heading towards the turbolift.

Suddenly a stabbing jolt of pain burst behind his eyes and he stumbled, barely catching himself on the wall as his vision danced with black spots.

"_Deneva_!" a whispered voice hissed, and he whipped around expecting to see an attacker, but the hallway was completely empty around him. Another bloom of pain flowered in his head, and he sagged back against the wall.

These hallucinations had to be stopped. He needed to see Doctor McCoy immediately. He swayed upright, turning to go back to the hopeful healing walls of Sickbay when he felt the respirator in his hands and realized that Jim needed him. He stopped in the center of the hallway, gazing down the corridor as he focused with all the immense concentration of his Vulcan heritage and cornered the pain, locking it into a deserted area of his mind. Pain is an illusion. It is not real. It can be controlled.

He inhaled slowly and closed the Turbolift doors.

"Not exactly, calm down Jim!" Bones replied, and the Captain sat back down with a slight cringe. He had gotten up too fast and was in a bit of pain now that the adrenaline and endorphins from his workout had faded.

"He's suffering from some pretty severe sleep deprivation. It's bad enough that he came to me for medication. It's going to be an easy fix, I'm sure he's just got leftover stress and trauma from the destruction of Vulcan. Lots of Vulcans have been going through things like this recently."

As Spock stepped off the Turbolift he was suddenly struck head on by a wave of light, sound and pain. He gasped in shock, falling to his knees as he clapped his hands over his ears.

"DENEVA!" a voice was screaming, all around him, in his head and in his ears, the image of the blue and green planet burned into his retinas. Then suddenly it was gone and he scrambled to his feet, shaken. He had never experienced anything of this nature before, and that it was happening to him on his own ship, in the safety of his home, was unsettling. Frightening.

"So he's fine for duty, right?" Jim clarified, and Bones nodded, taking out the medkit strapped to his belt and drawing a mild painkiller for his friend. He loaded the Hypo and stuck Jim with it as he continued their conversation, ignoring Jim's flinch.

"He should be. Unless his condition worsens or persists."

On cue, the door swooshed open and Spock all but stumbled into the room, eyes wide and looking almost panicked. Both humans looked up in surprise, and the Vulcan swayed to a stop, startled by the appearance of Doctor McCoy.

"Hello Spock," the doctor greeted, and the first officer straightened, smoothing the fabric of his blue science uniform.

"Doctor. I thought I had made it clear I would come to you in Sickbay when I required your services," he pointed out, and Bones' face reddened with anger.

"You goddamn hobgoblin! I take the time out of my busy schedule to come all the way up here to your room, out of the goodness of my heart, because I'm worried about you, and you respond like that? You heartless, emotionless-"

"Bones," Jim cut him off sharply, standing with some difficulty. He had noticed the wild look in his officer's eyes and felt a shard of panic strike through him. He reached out a hand to rest on Spock's tense shoulder.

"Are you alright, Spock?" he asked gently, and the Vulcan nodded curtly.

"I am feeling...unwell. I require a brief period of rest. Perhaps, since Doctor McCoy is here and your condition is no longer being kept covert, he will see to you in your own quarters," he suggested, and Jim nodded.

"Of course. Take the next shift off, we're floating dead in the water with no leads as it is. That's an order, Spock," he broke in before the Vulcan could object. He went to the door, listening to the sounds of Bones delivering his potent tranquilizer to Spock and following his Captain with some grumblings. The two humans exited the room quietly, and Spock closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He realized his hands had clenched up and glanced down, releasing his fist and realizing that he had crushed the respirator in a deathgrip. He dropped the useless piece of machinery and stripped his blue science shirt over his head, lying down in his starfleet blacks.

He needed to rest. He would understand when he awoke. Reaching for the hypo Doctor McCoy had given him, he pressed it to his arm and closed his eyes. The soft tingling of the air burst spread across the injection point, and he felt the medication begin to draw his body heavily into the darkness of unconsciousness.

He truly hoped he would not dream.

.

Jim stared at the ceiling above his bed, listening to the soft whoosh of the life support pushing air into the vents, the hum of the engines, the soft resonations of footsteps on the metal floors. He felt drowsy, partially from being tired and partly from Bones' hyposprays. He let his eyes fall closed, darkness painting patterns behind his closed lids. He enjoyed this time just before sleep when his mind could wander.

A soft tap on the door alerted him to a visitor, and he blinked and turned towards it. It whooshed open, and the pale figure of his first officer, dressed in Starfleet Blacks with bed rumpled hair and slightly shadowed eyes stepped through.

"Captain?"

Jim sat up, rubbing his eyes. "What's wrong, Spock?" he asked, noting the hyper stiffness of the Vulcan's back and shoulders, his clenched hands. Spock paced past him to the window, settling his hands at the small of his back, spine straight, feet together, chin up. He gazed out into the darkness, and Kirk rose to join him at the window.

"Do you believe in the power of prophecy Captain?" he asked finally, and Jim leaned on the windowsill beside his friend.

"You mean telling the future?" Spock nodded briefly. "I guess it would be handy, but I don't know if it's ever been proven to be real."

Another moment of silence passed before the Vulcan could gather himself and express his thoughts. Jim waited patiently, allowing him to take the time he needed. His dark eyes were almost tortured when they turned back to his Captain.

"What do you know of Deneva?" he switched topics somewhat abruptly, and Jim frowned in surprise.

"It's a colony in the Deneva System. I've been there once-it's a beautiful planet. There around 1 Million inhabitants. Why?"

Spock closed his eyes and placed a hand against his temple, as if pained. "I believe it would be prudent to contact the inhabitants," he asserted slowly, as if with great effort. Jim moved closer, eyes intense.

"Why, Spock?"

"I have been experiencing...inexplicable occurrences for the past several days which have centered around the planet of Deneva. It is illogical and I cannot explain my concern outside of what you humans would call...an uneasy feeling."

Kirk stared at his first officer for a moment, gauging this response. It was completely unlike Spock, which is why he was immediately inclined to accept it. But the way he had been acting lately, the unsettled furrow between his brows, the dark shadows beneath his eyes...

"I'll have Uhura send them a message. I know some people on that colony. I'm sure if anything is wrong, they'll know in plenty of time."

* * *

**Operation Annihilate anyone? :-3**


	8. Deneva

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**Love you!**

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_Chapter Eight: Deneva_

"We appreciate your concern, Captain Kirk, but assure you that if any kind of attack were to occur, the Deneva Colony is adequately equipped to deal with it."

"Yes, I'm certain you are Counsellor, I was just checking in. There have been some unusual encounters lately and it's protocol to warn any planets that could be affected," Kirk lied to the older man sitting across the vid conn from him, and the Counsellor of Deneva nodded and cut transmission. Jim sank back in his chair in the briefing room, rubbing his eyes wearily.

Spock's hunch had, apparently, been based on nothing. That, combined with a growing monster in the belly of his ship, the worsening condition of Carol Marcus, the loss of the exotic matter trail and the cloistering of his First Officer in his quarters had left Jim at the end of his rope. He stood, pacing the length of the briefing room. They had no leads, no trail to follow and useless current orders, and floating stagnantly in space was not the Captain's idea of keeping busy.

"Captain," the comm whistled at him, followed by Uhura's voice, and he punched the button.

"Kirk here."

"Mr. Chekov reports no further progress on the trail. He suggests we give up that line of thought and move on."

Jim's fists clenched. He was Captain James Tiberius Kirk and he never ever quit. But this bullheaded need to go on was getting them nowhere. His shoulders relaxed, fists uncurling as he leaned against the wall.

"Tell him to keep the scans running...but set a course for Starfleet's designated heading."

.

_"Spock."_

The Vulcan stared up at his ceiling, listening to the sounds of the ship. The voice in the darkness startled him; he was listening so intently, the whisper sounded like a shout.

He sat up, glancing around. He knew logically that no one could be in his quarters without his knowledge. However...

_"Spock."_

The voice was partially in his ears, partially in his mind. This potential telepathy disturbed the Vulcan deeply. If there was a telepathic being on board the Enterprise...

"Yes?" he ventured when the voice called yet again, and was met with only silence. He shook his head; he was being ridiculous, irrational. As illogical as his action of going to the Captain with his fears for a planet he had seen in a dream. There was no basis for his current state of mind.

_"Spock! Spock! Spock!"_

And yet it pestered him endlessly, driving him mad, and he clapped his hands over his ears and curled in on himself beneath the false protection of his bedcovers.

"Spock?"

"Leave me alone!" he finally cried in desperation, and then realized this voice had come from his doorway, not his mind, and sat up with a sinking feeling in his gut. Doctor McCoy stood cautiously in his entryway, looking alarmed. Spock had just yelled at him, which was enough to throw anyone off balance.

"You alright, Spock?" Bones called uncertainly, and the Vulcan sat up, smoothing his hair back and composing himself.

"Yes, Doctor. I have simply been suffering from unpleasant dreams and hallucinations, no doubt thanks to your so called medicine."

Bones bristled.

"Now wait just a goddamn minute! I came all the way up here out of the goodness of my heart to check on you, my patient, and you think it's alright to..." he trailed off as the light in the room came on, revealing the First Officer. His cheeks had begun to sink in slightly, and his pale skin seemed even paler than usual. He looked sickly, almost skeletal.

"This is about more than just nightmares, isn't it Spock?" he asked softly, the usual bantering animosity between them fading as real worry painted his expressive human face. Spock looked away. He would not discuss such things with a human, least of all McCoy.

"It is what it is, Doctor. Something I must handle alone," Spock replied quietly, and Bones sighed shortly.

"You know, Spock, trying to face every problem alone isn't strength. Sometimes, the strongest man is the one who isn't afraid to ask for help."

The doctor left Spock with that frustratingly vague piece of human advice, and the Vulcan fell into a medicated sleep with contemplations spinning in his troubled mind.

.

Jim twisted his chair around, the dull silence on the bridge making for a very bad environment to stay awake in. The soothing rush of the warp engines and stars speeding by, the hum of machinery...

Suddenly Uhura snapped to alert at her station, eyes wide.

"Captain, a distress signal from...it's Deneva!" she called, and Jim shot upright. Spock had been right!

"Chekov, Sulu, plot course for Deneva maximum warp! Uhura, try to contact the Counsellor, find out what's going on. Yeoman Adair, get Spock up here," he tossed orders out, and his crew obeyed like the well tuned machine they were.

"No response from the Deneva Council," Uhura called, and Kirk's fists clenched.

"Try this communicator," he said, patching in a comm number to the station. She frowned.

"That's a private line," she noted, and he nodded, shoulders tense. Uhura keyed in the necessary commands, and suddenly a burst of static came through her earpiece.

"Sam, are you there?" Jim called, and another burst of static gave way to a woman's voice, hysterically high pitched.

"They just came out of nowhere! They're everywhere-Sam, get Peter! Please, help us! Oh God, please help-" the transmission cut out sharply, and Jim swallowed hard.

"That sounded like Aurelan," he realized softly, and Uhura looked at him questioningly. "My Brother's wife. He's a scientist on Deneva. Chekov! How long until we reach the planet?"

"Fifteen minutes sir," the navigator replied, and Jim fell back in his chair as Spock strode through the door. He looked haggard, but his eyes were bright and Jim felt an immediate weight off his shoulders to have his First Officer on the bridge.

The ship came out of warp above orbit, and the entire crew fell silent in shock.

A massive ovular craft of pitch black, oblong and sleek hovered above the planet. The planet seemed to swarm beneath it, and Spock felt a blast of pain shoot through his temples. It was just as he had seen it.

"Fire warning shots on that ship!" Jim demanded, and photon torpedos roared through space towards the intruding craft. It rocked as it was struck broadside, clipped along the edges, and it began to flee in reverse.

"Hail them, Uhura!"

"I've been trying, no response."

The ship floated to the right slowly, using basic thruster power, and suddenly the entire ship began to vibrate as a low thrum started up. Spock flinched, his sensitive ears reacting to the sound too low for humans to hear well, but they could feel it. The Enterprise trembled and shook, and then suddenly in a burst of light and energy, the ship was gone, leaving a brilliant splash of color.

"Dammit!" Jim swore violently, slamming his hand on the arm of his chair. They had escaped. He'd had them in his reach, and they'd escaped.

"We're being hailed from the planet Captain," Uhura said, and he nodded. Onscreen, an image flickered, severely hampered by interference.

"Please help us! There are creatures here-" it broke off, and Kirk leapt from his chair, motioning to Spock.

"Sulu, you have the conn. I've got to get down there. Giotto! Get a security outfit to the transporter room! We have to provide aid to these people!"

"Sir!" Uhura leapt from her chair. "You can't beam down into the middle of a crisis like

this! If you get yourself killed-"

"Lieutenant!" Jim interrupted sternly. Then he flashed a grin. "I'll be fine. Hold down the fort. Spock, you're with me."

The usual duo stepped into the Turbolift, and as the doors closed Spock swayed slightly. Kirk caught his elbow in alarm.

"Are you alright to beam down?" he asked nervously, and Spock recovered himself, nodding sharply.

"I am functioning at 73.24%. I will simply avoid getting into trouble, as you would say," he decided, and the two rushed to the transporter room.

Kirk, Spock, Bones, Scroggins, and four Security Personnel materialized on the surface in full battle mode. They had barely landed when the chaos began-phaser fire flew as they found themselves surrounded by 177s. The monster nearest them reared, then flailed away as it was barraged with eight thousand degree laser fire.

"My brother's laboratory is that way!" Jim shouted, and the group covered them as they hurried towards the glass-windowed structure ahead of them. The glass doors had been smashed, the metal bracers crumpled, and the sounds of defensive weapons shattered the evening.

"Sam!" Jim shouted as they pushed through the rubble, and the shrieking of a frustrated 177 pierced the air. Instead of running away from the sound, the landing party raced towards it.

A 177 was scrabbling at the doorway to a corridor which had been barricaded closed, preventing it from entering. It writhed under phaser fire as the party attacked, but the exoskeleton took most of the brunt and shielded the monster. Jim glanced around frantically; they had to do more than make this thing retreat.

"Spock!" Jim grabbed his First's shoulder, directing his attention upward. A shattered mirror ceiling hung above them, the edges jagged and deadly. It dangled by a support wire, and the Vulcan threw his gaze back to his Captain.

"It is not in correct position. How do you intend to rectify this?" he inquired, already on board with Jim's plan. Jim's eyes hardened to blue diamonds and he sprinted towards the 177. Spock's heart leapt into his throat as Kirk leapt onto the beast with almost no hesitation, riding it like a wild mustang.

"Jim you god damn idiot!" Bones was shouting, but Spock focused his attention on the hanging glass. If Jim could lure the beast into position…

He fired, slicing cleanly through the support wire, and Jim threw himself clear of the monster in the nick of time as the massive shard of glass came hurtling through the air to strike the 177 with a decisive thud. It sheared clean through the armored exoskeleton, sending two halves of a 177 squirming and writhing until it lay still.

"Sam!" The officers came up to the partially bowed in sliding door, melting a human sized hole in the metal and forcing their way in. The room was dark, the emergency lighting flickering fitfully, As the party forged deeper into the room, a shuffle reached Spock's sensitive ears and he froze, holding up a hand for his human companions to do the same.

"Sam?" a tremulous female voice whispered, and Jim stepped into a small pool of light, blue eyes catching the fluorescent rays.

"It's Jim Kirk, Sam's younger brother," he replied to the disembodied voice, and suddenly a woman stumbled from behind a barricade of desks and laboratory equipment. She was covered in blood—her own or another's was unclear—and she threw herself into Jim's arms.

"Jim! Oh Jim," she sobbed, on the verge of hysteria, and he cupped his arms around her gently.

"Aurelan, my brother's wife," he explained softly, stroking her hair. "Aurelan, where is Sam?"

She shook her head, dissolving into tears. Kirk gestured to Bones to see to the woman, and he knelt with her as the Captain and the rest of the party crept further into the building.

"There is no evidence that your brother is here, Jim," Spock pointed out gently, but the Captain made no indication that he had even heard his First Officer's comment. They rounded a corner into a much larger room. It was once a lobby, and was now scattered with rubble and the shattered glass of a 177 crashing in through the roof. There was no sign of any of the creatures now, and they slipped across the floor stealthily. Spock glanced down and paused, his boot resting in the reddish trail of blood indicative of a wounded human.

"Captain," he called softly, and Jim's jaw tightened at the sight. He followed the smeared trail around another corner, beneath the staircase, and stopped abruptly. Scroggins and Spock came up beside him to discover a gruesome scene.

A man lay beneath the staircase with his back to them; at least, what was left of it. A 177 had evidently attempted to eat the elder male from behind, its mandibles slicing cleanly through his spine and nearly all the way through his chest, leaving a ragged hole. His blood splashed the blue carpet with crimson.

"Is it him?" another security officer asked, and Jim's jaw tightened.

"It is my brother." He paused. "_Was_ my brother. At least he didn't feel much pain," he said softly, a rather macabre statement based on the state of the man's severed spinal nerves.

He knelt down beside his kin, and Spock felt a wave of concern for his wellbeing. His eyes were as hard as diamonds, cold and unfamiliar as he closed Sam's glassy eyes. He suddenly froze, shoulders tensing visibly.

"Get Bones," he instructed Scroggins, who turned and ran back for the doctor who had stayed with Aurelan. Jim rose from his knees, holding a boy of around 7 years in his arms. He was drenched in blood, his sandy red hair speckled with the stuff and freckled face flecked with drying plasma.

"Peter," was all Jim said in explanation.

.

After Aurelan, Peter and the remains of George Samuel Kirk Jr. had been beamed up to the Enterprise, the landing party became a rescue party. They spread out across the surrounding area searching for any survivors.

Their success was limited. With each colonist they pulled from the wreckage of Deneva's once thriving settlement turned Jim's eyes a little darker, his shoulders a little tenser. Spock was beginning to wonder if his Captain was suffering from emotional stress. He doubted he could help even if he was.

"Help!"

A scream drew them to a domestic structure nearby. They had split into as many squads as they could, and Spock found himself alone with the Captain racing to the rescue.

A 177, smaller than any they had seen thus far, had cornered a Denevan woman and her small child, both of whom were wide eyed in terror.

Spock fired upon the creature to draw its attention, and as it whirled with a shriek it was struck directly below the crest of its spiny exoskeletal helmet by a blast from Kirk. It stiffened and fell limp abruptly, and Spock's eyes widened with realization; a weak spot in the armor!

Jim leapt down from his perch atop the structure, wielding a jagged pipe in his left hand. The creature twitched and clicked helplessly—they must have paralyzed it—but could not attack nor escape.

Jim struck it across the eye with the pipe, a vicious gesture of violence that made Spock start. This was most unlike his Captain.

But Kirk hit the beast again and again, anywhere he could reach with the primitive weapon. He hit it until his hands bled from the rough metal, and then he threw it aside, kicking the hard shell repeatedly until his rage wore itself out and he fell to his knees at the side of one of the beings responsible for his brother's demise. Tears, hot and bitter, streamed down Kirk's face as he let all his emotions run free as Spock never permitted.

The Vulcan approached, kneeling beside his Captain and resting a silent hand on his shoulder. Jim crumpled against him, his face resting in the protective dip of Spock's neck. The Vulcan felt no shame in providing this comfort to his friend, and draped an arm around the Captain's waist to wait for him to gather himself.

"We were too late," Jim whispered, one hand fisted in the blue fabric of his Science Officer's uniform. "You warned me what was happening and I waited, I took a chance. My brother is dead because of me. How many people are dead because of me?"

"The responsibility does not fall upon your shoulders, Jim," Spock asserted fiercely, and Kirk lifted his eyes to meet the dark gaze of his friend. "You attempted to warn Starfleet, you came as quickly as was humanly possible. You have saved many people. What more could be asked of you?"

Jim sighed, running a hand through his hair with a heavy sigh. "Let's get back to work. There are more people to help here."

He rose on his own two feet, sturdy, immovable, and Spock realized he truly admired his commanding officer. He would follow this golden figure into the depths of hell, to the edges of the universe and back if need be.

In a past life, perhaps they had already been.

.

Too many hours later, Jim collapsed in his quarters, not even bothering to remove his boots. He had been awake far too long, and felt sleep surging up to meet him.

He had just begun to drift off when the door swooshed open, and the broad shouldered figure of Leonard McCoy appeared silhouetted in the doorway.

"Jim?" he hissed, trying to determine if the Captain was awake, and Kirk moaned and rolled over.

"What is it Bones?" he muttered, rubbing his aching eyes. McCoy's eyes were lined with dark circles and he looked bone weary, but he doubtless had many more patients to attend to.

"I just thought I needed to tell you. Aurelan…her wounds were too severe. She's dead, Jim."

Kirk closed his eyes, nodding softly.

"Thank you Bones," he murmured and rolled over. The Doctor didn't want to leave his best friend in this fragile emotional condition, and fidgeted at the door for a moment, searching for words.

"The boy, what's his name?"

"Peter."

"He's going to recover just fine. Your brother didn't die in vain," he tried to comfort, and Jim's fists clenched convulsively. Bones flinched; he wasn't being helpful here.

"Try to get some sleep," he advised, and left Jim alone to his blissfully dreamless sleep.

* * *

_No matter the universe, some things stay the same. _


	9. I Am Ran'Chaah

**Hey my lovely readers! I really appreciate those of you who take the time to review, the ones who favorite or follow, and the casual readers so much! You inspire me to push through writer's block, so thank you! Enjoy.**

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_Chapter Nine: I Am Ran'Chaah_

"All Denevan refugees transferred to Starbase 10, sir," Scotty called through the comm. Jim clicked the comm link on the arm of his chair.

"Good work, Scotty. Mr. Chekov, you have the trail?"

Their time spent transporting the surviving colonists of Deneva to Starbase 10 had not been spent idly. Chekov had been tracing the exotic matter trail as closely as was humanly possible, and reports of a ship popping into existence in a nearby system corresponded to the end of it. Traveling at warp 8, they could be there in several hours.

Spock stood passively at his station, but Jim was seriously worried about his First Officer. Although the sleep apnea seemed to have assuaged, his First still seemed a bit out of sorts. Dark eyes flicked up to his, sensing his gaze, and Jim offered a small smile. Spock accepted it, the corner of his lips turning ever so slightly upward.

"Course laid in?" Kirk asked, and Chekov nodded.

"Locked onto Exotic Matter trail, Kepten," the Ensign asserted.

"Sulu, maximum warp. Drop out with shields on full. We're going to keep these sons of bitches from hurting any other planets."

Once on course, there was very little for the Captain to do but pace. And pace he did; he meandered past Sulu and Chekov, making small talk about their work, their personal lives. He exchanged a fairly in depth conversation with the Yeoman currently on the bridge, the same Aenarian whom he had spoken to several days earlier about Spock's health. Several other Ensigns, Lieutenants and Security Personnel occupied the stations on the bridge, all of whom he dropped in on. Eventually, he wandered past Uhura's station, instructing her to attempt to hail the alien ship before they attacked immediately. He lingered there for a minute, and she folded her arms pointedly.

"Do you need something, Captain?" she prodded, and he glanced at the Science Officer, currently occupied with something on his monitors.

"So how are you and Spock lately?" he asked, and she made an extremely sarcastic face at him.

"Over," she replied shortly, "more than a month ago, actually. You're really quite perceptive, Captain," she teased, and he blinked in surprise.

"That long? I…guess I don't know my crew as well as I think I do," he muttered, and she took pity on him.

"We…like to keep our personal lives private. And you really think Spock would talk about something like feelings with anyone else?" her last comment had a bitter edge to it, and Jim realized that Spock's hesitancy to share his emotions with others may have played a role in their relationship's ultimate demise.

The object of their conversation was gazing at his monitor, but found himself unable to concentrate; his headache, a dull throb upon his waking, was nearly intolerable now. Despite attempts to subdue it, it returned full force the moment his concentration slipped.

_Spock._

He clenched his teeth; that damnable voice again. He wondered for a brief, terrifying moment if he were going insane. But surely that verdict was an overreaction.

Brilliant flashes of light burst before his eyes suddenly, and he gasped, back straightening sharply as pain sizzled through his optic nerves. There was no source of light before him, and he pressed a hand to his temple.

**_HEAR ME_**

He jolted in shock as the voice roared at him, accompanied by a wave of colors that bled through his vision and nearly caused him to black out.

"No, I suppose not. I'm sorry for prying," Jim apologized to Uhura, and she nodded, getting back to work and indicating that he should really leave her alone. He glanced again at his First Officer to see him sitting rigidly, eyes wide. Jim frowned in concern.

"Spock?"

The Vulcan stood from his station, swaying unsteadily, and Jim rushed towards him. Was he going to faint?

Light and color and sound screamed in Spock's mind, and he found himself on his feet, attempting instinctively to flee. Get away, away from this pain, was all he knew. His logical mind cringed from this animalistic reaction, but it was no longer in his control.

Spock took a few staggering steps, his hand clutching at the surface of his station. He slid off the slick surface and tumbled down the steps, landing hard on the metal deck.

"Spock!" Jim dropped beside him. The Vulcan was convulsing, eyes rolled back in his head, a jumbled chatter emanating from his throat.

"Uhura, get Bones up here," he snapped, lifting Spock's head off the cold floor to rest in his lap. His First continued his seizing, violent and involuntary, and too many seconds later Bones burst through the door flanked by a pair of Orderlies bearing a gurney.

The doctor knelt with Jim with none of his usual sass, hazel eyes bright with focus.

"Support his head, keep his neck still. What happened before he collapsed?" he shot at Jim, taking Spock's vitals. The Captain shook his head, holding the Vulcan's neck with his fingers at his pulse and his thumb resting at the base of his delicately pointed ear.

"He just went very still, then stood up and started towards the door like he was going somewhere. Then he just fell."

Bones took out a hypo full of tranquilizer and pulled up the sleeve of Spock's science blues to administer it when suddenly the Vulcan's back arched violently, his hands tansing into claws, and from his mouth came a horrible cry, broken syllables and a painful shriek.

"I-I-am-r-ra-n-chaah!"

He screamed hoarsely and then fell completely limp in Jim's arms.

The echoing silence that followed held a sickly pregnancy, but Bones' declaration of, "he's still with us," gave the cue for a collective sigh of relief. Uhura sat down; she hadn't even consciously decided to get up, but had sprung from her station in concern.

"Let's get him to Sickbay," Bone murmured, and the three medical personnel loaded the Vulcan onto the gurney and floated him away.

Jim watched them go, the silence following the closing Turbolift enveloping him like a stifling blanket. He paced to his chair, resting a hand on the back of it and turning it on its silent tracks. He strode to the front of it, then back to the other side, hands clenching and flexing fitfully.

He was needed here on the bridge, he knew that. But the link between himself and his First felt almost like a physical bond tugging him below decks. He couldn't just sit here idly while Spock fought whatever it was that he was fighting.

"How long until we reach the rendezvous point?" he asked softly, and Chekov recalculated quickly.

"Thirteen hours, twenty-two meenets Kepten," he reported, and Kirk was halfway to the door before the young Russian had finished.

"Sulu, you have the conn!" he called over his shoulder as the turbolift closed him in with a soft swish.

_Spock drifted in the gentle embrace of unconsciousness. The darkness which enveloped him, usually a starry black streaked with deep blue, was shot through with many unusual colors. They were brilliant, many, foreign. Another mind?_

Leonard McCoy was very frustrated. He was a doctor; he found the cause for pain or bodily harm and he fixed it. If he couldn't, he still gave it all he could.

But how the hell could he fix something he couldn't find any cause for?

"Nurse, get me another shot of sedative! His damned Vulcan metabolism keeps over compensating and trying to wake him up!"

As hard as he was trying to even out the Vulcan's vitals, Spock just wouldn't have it. His brain activity was off the charts, and his other systems kept spiking and dropping from Vulcan norms to...something very far from normal.

_Yes...Spock was almost certain it was another intelligence occupying his mind with him. This made him nervous. Had a strong telepathic force really overpowered his mental shielding so easily? Was this a hostile action? He did not sense any ill will from the presence which surrounded him, but that did not mean it did not exist. He would have to investigate further._

Jim's mother hen presence did very little to assuage Bones' stress.

"Someone get this goddamn fool out from under my feet!" he snarled, and the Captain took a startled step backwards. He was used to McCoy's unpredictable mood swings, but had never seen him quite so agitated. Despite the way they bickered, Bones really did care for the Vulcan. He would not let Spock die.

_Spock reached out for that flicker of intelligence, brushing his mind against it curiously, and suddenly the small streaks exploded into fireworks inside his mind, knowledge and wisdom and experience beyond his imagination dancing before him._

"Alright...he's steadying," Bones declared, watching the screens above Spock's head. Jim looked up from where he was sitting; he didn't know it, but it was the bed where Peter Kirk had lain just days before.

"Will he be alright?"

"He should be," Bones decided, surveying the Vulcan uncertainly. "Although I still can't for the life of me figure out what caused it.

Greetings,_ Spock expressed to the intelligence, and felt it swell with pride. It was very happy to be communicating with him._

**_I am with you, S'chn T'gai Spock. After many months. This brings me great satisfaction._**

_Spock paused at the use of his full name. The intelligence had obviously delved deeper within his mind than he had previously believed, and it made him uncomfortable._

I seem to be at a disadvantage, _he quipped._ You know my name, but I do not know yours.

**_You will._**

"Jim, you pacing at his bedside isn't going to do any good."

The Captain sighed and dropped into one of the hard visitor chairs in recovery room B. Spock's vitals had dropped to comatose and leveled there. That had occurred almost two hours ago with no signs of change, and Bones heaved a sigh. Once Jim got it in his head to do something, he was rigid as stone and twice as hard to budge.

So the Southern Doctor just clapped his friend on the back and left to attend to his other patients.

Jim gazed at his unconscious First Officer, hands tightening on his own upper arms. Spock's expression was peaceful, but his eyes roved beneath his lids, as if he were searching for something there inside his head.

Jim hung his head, clenching his arms so hard it almost hurt. He needed Spock right now; his emotions were in turmoil and he had no grounding. He usually went to the Vulcan for that kind of thing. Spock was a constant in his world, as steady and reliable as Polaris and twice as bright, and without him...

Jim was struck suddenly with the thought that Spock may not wake up. What would he do if his North Star blinked out of existence...forever?

It made him almost physically ill and he shook his head, standing abruptly and staring down at the prone form.

"Don't you dare give up, Spock. Our ship needs you. I need you."

And with that he strode from the room to make sure their ship was in top condition in her commander's absence.

Who are you? _Spock declared again, and the presence sighed almost audibly._

_**Patience young one. You will not understand until I explain. And I have many things to show you.**__ The presence reached out a golden thread, touching Spock's forehead and psy-points, and the Vulcan understood. He understood everything._

_**I am Ran'Chaah.**_

* * *

****_Spock is not possessed by a Demon, I promise. Thanks for reading!_


	10. An Unexpected Development

**Hey readers! Glad to see you after a bit of a writer's block! Thanks for sticking with me, I really adore you all. **

**I don't own Star Trek or any of these lovely beings except the Ran'Chaah, the Theta and this particular storyline. **

**Read, review, enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 10: An Unexpected Development**

"Jim."

Captain Kirk made no response. He was deep within REM sleep and would probably require a more thorough rousing.

"Jim."

This time the Captain shifted slightly, but did not stir. His watcher sighed irritably.

"Jim!" The watcher hissed vehemently, and Jim opened his crystal blue eyes. They focused instantly on the face of the man at his bedside. They widened in surprise.

"Spock?!" he rolled upright in shock, but the Vulcan remained in his crouch. His brow was deeply furrowed, and he seemed to be struggling to move.

"Are you alright? How long have you been awake?" Jim asked, and his First shook his head.

"That is not important. I need...I have information about the ship which we are pursuing," he explained, pressing a hand to his temples, and Jim rested his hands on the Vulcan's shoulders.

"What? Spock, are you sure you're alright? Did Bones give you permission-"

"The ship!" Kirk startled back at Spock's vehemence, and the Vulcan gripped his shoulders in a painfully tight hold. "We are following the wrong trail Captain. It is-" he broke off, eyes snapping closed in pain.

Let me speak young one.

"I was contacted...by a telepathic being. It wishes to speak with you. Shall I allow it, sir?"

"What do you mean allow it? What's going on?"

Spock sighed, regaining his emotional control. "I am currently...hosting another mind inside my own."

Jim squinted skeptically. "Another mind?"

"Yes. It wishes to speak to you but may only do so through use of a vessel. Myself, in this case."

Jim touched Spock's shoulder as the Vulcan straightened, deeply concerned for his friend's wellbeing.

"Spock-"

"Captain," his first interrupted, "I will come to no harm."

Jim gauged the honesty and determination written in Spock's telling eyes, and finally sighed and gave a grudging nod. Spock stiffened abruptly, fell to the ground like a marionette whose strings had been cut, then took a stuttering breath as Jim knelt beside him anxiously.

"Spock?"

"I-I..." he tried to speak and paused, sitting up slowly as if adjusting to the limbs at his control.

"Spock?" Jim tried again, and the being within snapped out of his daze and focused slightly unfocused eyes on the Captain.

"I...a-am t-tha-at wh...which yo-ou...wi-ith wh-whom...s-sp-eech is m-most di-iff...ifficult," he stammered, almost like a child who had recently discovered it could communicate. It was jarring to hear such fumbling attempts at speech from Spock's mouth in Spock's voice, the Vulcan was also so proper and eloquent. The alien was suddenly distracted as he caught sight of his own hand and went stock still, mesmerized by its movement.

"I'm Captain James T. Kirk of the U.S.S. Enterprise. State your name and intent," Jim ordered as mandated by Starfleet Protocol. Spock's eyes moved slowly over Kirk's face, alight with wonder. Had they always been that color, Jim wondered faintly, brown so dark it was almost black-but not quite, he wasn't pure Vulcan-with flecks of sienna and green and gold...

The alien reached out with Spock's hand to touch the Captain's face gently in exploratory curiosity. Jim did not move; he knew that any sudden movement could be considered hostile to unfamiliar forces and send this situation to hell.

"F-F-Fas-scinat-ating," the creature manage, and Jim smiled gently at the familiar exclamation. Oh shit, what if showing teeth was a sign of aggression? He quickly retracted the gesture just in case.

To his surprise Spock mirrored the motion, giving Jim a slightly lopsided grin. It ignited an interesting warmth in Kirk's belly which he decided to ignore.

"You have information I need?" he asked, and the creature took Spock's hands down, away from Jim's face.

"Ye...yes."

"Let's start with your name," Kirk suggested, and Spock's brows drew together sharply, almost automatically. The gesture seemed to startle the creature, who touched his forehead curiously.

"My...my pe-eople h-have no...no ne-eed f-f-for na-a-ames," he said, and Kirk felt his irritation with the situation growing.

"Fine, we'll skip introductions then. What can you tell me about these aliens we're hunting?"

"T-The-They a-are..." he stopped, seeming frustrated with his speech facilities. He froze for an instant, as if sifting through something, then extended a familiar three fingered grip towards the Captain, who started back.

"E-Easy...easier to sh-show yo-you," he insisted, and Jim steeled himself as the Vulcan's fingers pressed warmly to those particular points on his face. He felt a tingling sensation, then his mind's eye burst into life and color as a deep voice-not Spock's-echoed in the silence.

**_I come from a system in the galaxy you call Andromeda, _**_he began, and Jim found himself floating through space surrounded by unfamiliar stars._

**_My star is named Shuu'klo'tza, my planet Ran._**

_A vibrant Class O planet danced with clouds and life and Jim was struck suddenly by the aching fondness the being felt for this world._

_**My people.**__ A race of long limbed, long necked amphibious creatures, colorful and exotic, lovers of art and philosophy and beauty._

**_The people of Ran; the Ran'Chaah._**

_Hundreds of years flashed before Jim's eyes, and the Ran'Chaah's intelligence and curiosity grew. They cultivated their telepathic abilities for generations until they discovered they could separate essence from body._

**_We wanted to see the Universe beyond our galaxy. Many of us left our bodies in stasis and did so._**

_The chronometer sped through centuries, millennia._

_**We stayed away too long**__, his voice held ominous foreshadowing, and the same thriving planet appeared before them but now it was lifeless, barren. The oceans had been vaporized, the cities leveled, the sleeping bodies of the Ran'Chaah destroyed. The only creatures left burrowed through the baking soil to make their nests._

**_They came from the eighth planet our ancestors had discovered; we call them Theta, for the first planet they destroyed. They invaded Ran, stole our intergalactic travel, destroyed all of our species which remained._**

_Jim felt a staggering wave of loss, sorrow, and despair. How had they gone on after that?_

**_Many of us did not, young one._**

_Small clouds of color and light which Jim knew inherently were the essence of the Ran'Chaah let out harmonizing wails of agony, the beautiful but haunting sound of a thousand hearts breaking. One glowed brightly as its song soared above the rest, then it vanished. Others began to wink out of existence, so consumed by sorrow that they could no longer allow themselves to live._

**_And the Theta moved on._**

_A trail of destruction appeared before Jim, zigzagging across the Andromeda Galaxy, burned planets, decimated civilizations._

**_My galaxy has no protector, no...Federation. Many warring factions tried to destroy the Theta, but could not. Several were destroyed by the technology my people created._**

_Guilt and shame washed through their conjoined minds. But a small flicker of light and energy followed that trail of destruction, always watching, always waiting._

_"_You followed them_?" Jim asked, and he felt a surge of acknowledgement._

**_My people neglected our system and allowed this menace to evolve. I am the last of the Ran'Chaah; it is my duty to see that they are destroyed._**

_"_That's why you're here, isn't it_?" Kirk realized, "_you've finally found a force that can help you to destroy the Theta._"_

**_I can only communicate telepathically. The conditions for my contact had to be precise. Destiny has smiled on us this time, young ones._**

Jim gasped as he was returned to his body, head spinning from the change of perspective. Spock went limp as he regained himself a moment after Jim did, and the Captain caught his first officer before he could hit the floor.

"Spock?" he tried to rouse the Vulcan, and the dark eyes fluttered open weakly.

"Jim...is he capable of helping us?" he murmured, and the Captain nodded, helping Spock to his knees. The dark haired Starfleet Officer slowly stood, moving as if his whole body ached.

"Are you alright?" Jim asked nervously, and Spock nodded briskly.

"My body is not-mm," he nearly collapsed, his legs giving way, and would have ended up on the floor again if not for Jim's quick reflexes and proximity to the Vulcan. "It is not fit for a being such as him to inhabit. I may grow accustomed to it, but it will take training."

"Whoa, who said anything about you getting used to it?" Jim cut him off as he helped him to sit on the edge of his bed, and Spock raised an eyebrow.

"I presumed it obvious, Captain. He is potentially our only knowledgeable ally against this enemy-whose identity, because of him, we are aware of. We must have access to every scrap of information he possesses if we are to defeat the enemy we have been confronted with. And the only way to communicate with him is through the use of my body as a vessel."

Jim was momentarily stunned by the vehemence with which Spock declared his opinion, and he rested a hand on the Vulcan's shoulder.

"If you think it's the best way."

.

"Jim, do you have any idea what time it is?"

Kirk nodded somewhat pointedly as his Chief Medical Officer and Chief Engineering Officer filed sleepily into the room. He wanted as few people around for this as possible while still attempting to follow protocol. As if there was a set of rules for this kind of situation.

"Yes, Bones, I do. You may have noticed you're missing a patient," he pointed out as he gestured to the chair beside him and it swiveled around to reveal a rather drawn and gaunt looking Spock. Bones' face lit up with fury, but Spock's hands clenched on the seat tersely before he could say anything. Jim rested a hand on the Vulcan's shoulder.

"You sure about this?" he murmured, and his First nodded curtly. He closed his eyes, and Bones cursed in surprise when his head jolted back sharply, eyes rolling back in his head.

"Jim-" he shouted, but Kirk shook his head, holding up a mollifying hand and watching Spock intensely. The stiffness faded and the Vulcan slumped sideways before blinking several times.

"Are you with us?" Jim asked softly, and the figure straightened himself cautiously, as if taking stock of all the muscles he had suddenly been saddled with.

"Spock?" Bones asked, and the dark eyes riveted on the Doctor with unnerving intensity.

"M-M-Mc-Coy," he asserted, and Bones nodded slowly, unsure about what was happening. Scotty fidgeted uncomfortably, even more at a loss.

Spock's normally stoic face split sideways in a wide grin and he said, "M-McCoy!" again, almost celebratory in his discovery, and Bones turned wide, startled hazel blue eyes on Jim.

"What the hell did you do to him?" he asked almost in a whisper, and Jim shook his head.

"Right now you're speaking with a highly advanced telepathic being which has been trying to communicate with Spock for months."

"A telepathic being? You're telling me there's an alien wearing Spock's skin?" The thought actually seemed to make the Doctor ill, and Jim made calming gestures at his best friend.

"I don't like it either. Spock's pretty determined though. Hear him out, we'll debate the ethics of it later."

McCoy fell silent and Scotty spoke up for the first time curiously as he observed the Vulcan who was currently gazing around at his new surroundings with something akin to childish wonder.

"This being got a name then?" he asked, and Jim sighed as Spock piped up.

"M-My pe-eople have no-no use...f-for na-ames," he repeated, and was seeming to gain some amount of control over his vocal facilities.

"Well we can't just call you 'Higher-Telepathic-Being-Currently-Possessing-Spoc k' now can we?" Bones groused, and the creature blinked thoughtfully.

"T-The-en I wi-ill take the n-name of m-my pe-eople," he decided. "C-Call m-me Ran'Chaah."

.

The four officers sat in silence as they mulled over the information which had been divulged to Jim earlier and the other two just now. Ran'Chaah had abandoned Spock's body for the time being and the Vulcan was sleeping in a leaned back briefing chair in the corner of the room. Hosting the alien seemed to cause a strain on his body.

"I don't like it, Jim," Bones said at long last, rubbing a hand across the five o'clock shadow he had developed that nearly sleepless night, and Scotty pursed his lips.

"I see no reason for 'im teh be lyin' to us Cap'n," he put forth, and Jim leaned back, running a weary hand over his eyes. He was inclined to agree with both of them.

"Didn't he say he's been trying to contact Spock for months? Who do you think's been causing him those damned nightmares? I'll bet he caused the attack on the bridge too!" Bones accused, and a soft voice joined from the corner.

"Ran'Chaah did not intentionally harm me." The assembled men turned to see Spock observing them with glittering black eyes. He had made no attempt to move, which worried Jim.

"Are you alright?" he asked, and the Vulcan nodded shallowly.

"I require...rest," he decided after some contemplation, and made to rise, but Kirk saw the shakiness of his limbs and strode to assist him. He slung an arm beneath the Vulcan's, slinging Spock's long thin limb over his shoulders and hoisting him to his feet.

"We should take him to sickbay, see what hosting that thing has done to him," Bones suggested, and Spock frowned slightly, shaking his head as he pressed two pale fingers to his temple.

"I am not physically injured. Simply fatigued. Please allow me to return to my own quarters for meditation and sleep."

The others agreed. Bones and Scotty trailed after their commanding officers and took up respectful positions on either side of Spock's doorway as the Captain helped the First Officer inside.

"There we go, easy does it," Jim said as he lowered Spock onto the edge of his cot, and the Vulcan sighed, resting his head in his hands. "Will you be alright?"

He nodded, but said nothing. Jim waited a few silent moments before he realized Spock wasn't going to instigate conversation and he moved towards the door.

"Captain."

Apparently he had been wrong. He turned back to face his First. Spock did not open his eyes, but spoke again.

"Ran'Chaah and I have decided...that after meditation and physical preparation he will take up an extended residence within my mind."

"What?!" Jim reacted without thinking, and the Vulcan's face tightened almost imperceptibly in pain at the loud exclamation. Jim quickly lowered his voice. "When were you planning on discussing this with us?"

"It is my decision, and I saw no need for Mr. Scott or Dr. McCoy's input. I am, however, currently requesting your permission as my commanding officer," Spock said calmly, and Kirk fell silent. Spock wouldn't go through with it if he told him not to. But could he give up this chance to gain a valuable ally against the Theta?

"The minute you feel like he needs to be out of your head, you tell me. I don't want you putting yourself at unnecessary risk, you understand me?" Kirk demanded, and Spock looked up into his crystal blue eyes and nodded.

"Promise, Spock."

"I promise," he said softly, and Jim nodded, satisfied.

"Good. Now get some sleep, you look like hell."

Spock cocked his head curiously. "Captain, as far as I am aware hell is an old Christian ideal of a place where immoral souls go when a human dies. How exactly do I resemble-"

"Figure of speech, Spock. Get some rest," Jim broke in, and the Vulcan nodded. Jim stepped out into the hall and found himself flanked by his senior officers. He heaved a sigh.

"When he wakes, we'll inform the necessary crew of this new development. Until then, we need to get some sleep ourselves."

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**Mystery solved! But the story is long from over my dears, Kirk and Spock and the gang have plenty of adventure ahead of them yet. **

**Love you all!**

**~Firegirl**


	11. For The Needs of the Many

**Wow hey guys! Sorry for the unforgivably long Hiatus, I'm going to try to be better. Writer's Block combined with starting college is bad news for fanfictions! **

**Anyway I hope you like this long awaited chapter! Read, review, enjoy, the whole shebang.**

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_Chapter Eleven: For The Need of the Many_

"Today marks the first meeting in the operation to track, communicate with and if necessary destroy the hostile race known as The Theta," Jim's voice was easily heard by the assembled team in the largest briefing room aboard the Enterprise. They had decided to select an elite group to inform of the exact situation; the senior officers and bridge crew, a group of the best biological scientists and a security team.

Spock stepped onto the bridge and found himself confronted by an almost entirely unfamiliar bridge crew. A Lieutenant in gold he recognized as a Human named Brady was seated in Kirk's chair, and he approached at a quick stride. The young lieutenant's eyes widened at his arrival.

"C-Commander Spock!"

"Lieutenant Brady. Where is the senior bridge crew?" he demanded, and the young man drew himself up, visibly gathering courage to deal with the somewhat abrasive first officer.

"They're in an important senior staff meeting. We're to take care of the ship until they've finished," he said, staring into Spock's face, and the Vulcan frowned ever so slightly.

"A senior staff meeting?"

"Thank you all for your service, your sacrifice and especially your silence. We want to avoid this little project getting too far out of our hands," Kirk joked, and a ripple of somewhat nervous laughter traveled through the room. By 'out of their hands' Jim probably meant somewhere Starfleet Command could hear about it. What they were about to do wasn't illegal, per se, but it seemed unnecessarily dangerous and unusual, and there was bound to be a hell of a lot of red tape involved with getting official permission to utilize an unstable and unknown resource like Ran'Chaah seemed to be, so they were going to more or less leap from the ledge and hope for the best.

"What kind of senior staff meeting?"

"I don't know sir, but they've been in the Lower Briefing Room since 0700."

Spock turned on his heel and vanished from the bridge, many unsettlingly prominent and conflicting emotions bubbling beneath his skin. Why had he alone been excluded from this apparently important meeting with the other senior members of his ship's crew? Was it to do with his physical condition? He had rested, meditated and prepared for nearly a week and had returned to a condition similar to that which he had enjoyed before the first attempts at contact from Ran'Chaah.

Perhaps it was to do with Ran'Chaah. Did they not trust him with this information now that he would be sharing his mind?

"You all have your assignments?" Jim swept his eyes around the room, and upon finding his officers in agreement he nodded briskly.

"Good. Now remember; bringing down the Theta is our second priority. The safety of this ship, the safety of her crew, and the safety of her First comes first. You all understand? He'll try to bear the burden on his own, and we can't let him."

The door slid open behind Kirk's shoulder at that very moment and a frustrated Vulcan entered the room. He surveyed the startled or purposefully blank faces of the assembled crew and raised an eyebrow.

"I apologize for my interruption," he said to the silent room, "I was searching for the entire senior staff of the Enterprise. Now that I have located you, I will respectfully withdraw. Please carry on," he said somewhat sulkily and turned to leave.

"We were actually just about to retrieve you, Mr. Spock," Jim replied brightly, "I know you need your rest to prepare for what's ahead." He clapped a friendly hand on the Vulcan's shoulder, pulling him back into the room insistently. Spock observed him thoughtfully for a moment, deciding if he should point out the Captain's purposeful avoidance of the truth before deciding it would not be worth the elongated excuses and feigned innocence he would receive and settled for a long suffering nod. He took the seat at Jim's right hand which, he realized, had been left open despite his absence. Perhaps they really had been planning to fetch him.

"Does anyone have any questions for Mr. Spock before we bring in Ran'Chaah?"

A single caramell hand rose towards the back and Jim tensed. Uhura's dark eyes locked with Spock's in a poignant stare.

"Does Commander Spock have any sort of escape plan in the event that Ran'Chaah becomes hostile? How will he exume himself without destroying his own mind and body?"

Spock's dark gaze never wavered from hers.

"In that event, Lieutenant, it is the duty of this crew to do everything in its power to protect the Enterprise, regardless of whatever eventuality that may befall me. My life is of no greater value than any other."

The air all but crackled with the underlying tension between them, and Jim dropped a broad hand on Spock's stiff shoulder to break it.

"That's enough, Uhura. Anyone else?"

Silence met his challenge, and so he nodded and looked expectantly at Spock. The Vulcan glanced apprehensively at the crowded room and Kirk realized that the process of receiving Ran'Chaah was a bit more personal than his First Officer wanted to get with this many people, so he gestured to the small Ready Room at the back of the briefing chamber.

"If you'd prefer more privacy," he suggested softly, and Spock stared back for a moment contemplatively. Then he nodded shortly and rose.

The door swished closed behind them and Spock inhaled shallowly. Despite his unruffled appearance, he was actually becoming apprehensive about this whole affair.

"Nervous?" Jim asked softly, and Spock raised an eyebrow.

"Nervousness and uneasiness are Human Emotions," he chided and Kirk gave him a somewhat knowing smile but nodded.

"Of course. Whenever you're ready then."

Spock sat down in one of the swivelling chairs and closed his eyes, sensing the unwavering golden presence of Jim's consciousness behind him. Then he felt the many-colored thing which he had come to recognize as Ran'Chaah's psychological form floating formlessly above him, waiting.

The first sensation always came as a sort of swelling, as if he suddenly had too much internal mass to fit inside his external frame. Then it condensed into a splitting pain directly behind his eyes, a psychological pain that could not be suppressed by the usual tactics employed by his people to decrease the power of the sensation upon themselves. And finally the glittering being settled into the folds of his brain tissue, slipping on his skin like a glove, stretching experimentally as Spock felt himself tucked away for safekeeping inside his own mind.

The Vulcan's dark eyes opened slowly, and as usual it took him a few moments to get his bearings. Having a physical body after so long without one was disorienting, and he looked around, inspected his body, the fabric of his science blues.

"Ran'Chaah?" Kirk asked, and the being turned his bright eyed gaze on the Captain. They were the same dark brown as always, Jim knew that, but they seemed to almost glow from within. It wasn't Spock looking back at him.

"G-Good mo-orning, Cap-ptain," he said brightly, treating Jim to a more practiced smile, and Jim nodded to him.

"Good morning. Are you all settled in nice and comfy?"

Ran'Chaah shrugged Spock's shoulders, kicked his legs experimentally and pushed himself to a standing position. He swayed and nearly fell over instantly, but Kirk saved him the mild indignity and caught him. Ran'Chaah laughed in delighted surprise, and Jim swallowed the strange feeling in his throat. This wasn't Spock, he reminded himself, it was an alien being using Spock's body for its own purposes.

"M-Much grat-titude, Captain," He thanked, and Jim returned him to an upright position and stared intently into his eyes.

"Listen to me, Ran'Chaah," he said in a low, somewhat threatening tone, "Spock is my First Officer. He also happens to be one of my closest friends. If you do anything to endanger him, if you put one toe out of line in this agreement, I will find a way to rip you out of his head and keep you out. Understand?"

The deep eyes returned his gaze, and Ran'Chaah held up two fingers. He drew them across Spock's chest, touched the bridge of his nose then his forehead and extended them in an arc from there back down. It appeared to be some sort of ceremonial gesture, similar to the Catholic Crossing or the Aenarian Trust Mark.

"I s-swear on the l-lives of my-y pe-eople that Sp-pock will not be h-harmed by m-me," he said seriously, and then a sparkle of joviality returned to his eyes. "It is g-good th-that he has y-you to ca-are for him, Captain," he said, and Jim felt for some reason that Ran'Chaah was putting more stock in his worry than he should have. The Captain cleared his throat and gestured to the door.

"Ready to go out and meet the world, Ran'Chaah?"

The alien took a deep breath and nodded, one hand resting over the left side of Spock's abdomen. Jim looked at him curiously, and the telepathic being offered him a slightly crooked smile that had an interesting affect on the Human's heartbeat.

"I am n-nervous. The b-body rea-acts to h-how I fe-eel. I m-missed this."

Jim slid open the doors.

"Bones, where is Ran'Chaah?"

Kirk stood impatiently in Sickbay as the CMO tended to Carol Marcus' nearly healed wounds, and the older man threw his hands up in resignation.

"I told you I don't know, Jim! After the briefing he came here for a checkup and I think Chekov took him somewhere."

"You just let him go?" Jim demanded, and Bones glowered at his friend.

"I've got a sickbay to run here, Jim. I'm not an alien babysitter! I've got Dr. Marcus and several sick people to deal with so why don't you go and deal with it on your own?"

He pushed Jim towards the door and then out of it, sealing Sickbay behind him. Kirk huffed in indignation.

"It's my ship, you grouchy old man," he muttered, but went off in search of the Russian and Ran'Chaah. His quest led him to the Engineering labs where he discovered a group of engineering personnel engaged in an excited conversation.

"But how d'yeh know where yer comin' out on the other side?" Scotty asked, and the bent silky black head of Spock bobbed where he was leaning over a holoscreen entering data.

"T-The exotic m-matter core is uns-stable; there is a-a bit of...random chance inv-volved," he admitted, and Scotty spluttered in shock.

"Yeh just go hoppin' about the galaxy with no idea as to where yer goin'?! That's insane!"

Ran'Chaah laughed in reply, in Spock's sonorous voice, vivid and almost teasing. Jim's stomach flipped, and he quickly ignored the strange feeling.

"N-No more ins-sane than what you do h-here...Mr. Sc-cott," Ran'Chaah pointed out, and the Chief Engineer spluttered but fell silent. "Bes-sides, we do not s-simply let the m-machine do all the work."

"Oh? Is that so? And how exac'ly do yeh help it along? Get out and push?"

Some of the engineers chuckled, and Ran'Chaah shook his head, tapping Spock's temple. His eyes danced with delight and he held the crew rapt.

"Wi-ith our m-minds," he said as if it were obvious, and Scotty developed a rather skeptical look on his face.

"Are yeh sayin' yeh figured out a way to telepathic'lly connect with the machines?"

"O-Of course," he replied easily, "w-we use t-telepathy in...all that we-e do."

"Is that why the Theta's course is so random?" Kirk interjected, and a dozen heads whipped around in surprise. His presence had gone unknown up to that point and his sudden addition to the conversation had startled the assembled engineers.

Spock's face lit up with Ran'Chaah's joy at seeing the Captain, and that inexplicable warmth blossomed in Jim's chest again.

"Y-Yes, Captain," Ran'Chaah explained, "t-they do not p-possess...the ability. The mach-chine will take the-em wherever it s-sees fit."

"Sounds like a problem to track."

"Not i-if we can make conta-act with the exotic m-matter core. I ca-an tell it w-where to go."

"But first we need to be within range of the ship?" Kirk guessed, and Ran'Chaah nodded. The Captain sighed.

"What kind of range will you need?"

"Around n-ninety of y-your Lightye-ears."

"Sounds doable. Scotty!" The Chief Engineer perked up at the order being directed his way. "He tells you go, you go. I'll bring him up top with Chekov to work out a course."

"That's already been done, sir," another Engineer spoke up, "Mr. Chekov has been following Ran'Chaah's course for the last hour."

Jim nodded, but wasn't sure he liked the fact that Ran'Chaah was already so comfortable ordering around his crew. It could be residual Spock authority, but it could become trouble if he got used to it.

"Well then. Get back to work everyone," he teased, and the Engineers went back to their business. Spock's dark head was heading for the door, and Kirk hurried after him.

"Ran'Chaah, wait." The dark eyed being paused, eyes glittering curiously, and Jim pulled him aside into a partly secluded alcove.

"I-Is someth-thing wrong Ca-aptain?" he asked, popping one of Spock's eyebrows.

"Not exactly. I just...the crew seems to like you," Jim commented, and Ran'Chaah beamed, hands clasped excitedly.

"Do the-ey Captain? It has b-been so lo-ong since I have be-een loved."

Jim couldn't help the compassion he felt, but he rested a cautionary hand on the alien's shoulder.

"I understand that it's exciting, but just remember that Spock's body is not yours. Try to be respectful of his boundaries."

"I wi-ill try," Ran'Chaah promised.

* * *

**Next chapter will hopefully be up before Thanksgiving, your reviews, views and support are the only reasons I keep going. I love you guys! Thanks for being the best readers ever!**

**FG**


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